One of the Unnamed
by Kiley S. Snape
Summary: It was not Jane Austen's fault that she failed to make my existence known; however, it was her fault that she did not tell the story the way it truly was. My name is Miss Kiley S. Jensen, and here was really happened- starting when I met the man who captured my heart the day I rode a fidgety horse. Colonel Brandon/OC
1. Chapter 1

One of the Unnamed

by Kiley S. Snape

As the horse I was riding tensed for what must have been the seventh time, I regretted my impatience at wanting to go out for a ride and not waiting for my horse, Perseus, to be returned from the farrier. I felt uneasy on this small-boned horse, and that unease added to the horse's. Suddenly, the horse reared and launched into a breakneck speed; despite my insistent, experienced tugs on the reins, the horse would not relent. That meant there was only option left; I would have to jump, or continue to race through the countryside. I released the reins, and slipped one foot out of its stirrup. Just as I prepared to jump, a baritone voice called out, "Hold on, Miss!" A rider astride a beautiful friesian appeared at my side; his arm wrapped about my waist and eased me out of my saddle. The rider reined his horse to a gradual halt, and eased me to the ground. "Are you all right, Miss?" he asked as his dismounted.

"I am well, sir, thank you ever so much," I replied breathlessly, and watched the horse I was previously riding continue off in the distance. I held a hand over my thundering heart, and looked to my rescuer. He was significantly taller than me, with sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes. His presence was of a subtle awe, one could easily overlook it if not patient enough to truly see him. I found his presence intoxicating, and finally I met his eyes.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Christopher Brandon," he spoke softly, his voice pleasant to hear, and then bowed.

I curtsied in reply and said, "Good afternoon, sir. My name is Kiley Jensen." I gave him a warm smile, and suddenly realisation dawned on me. "Are you the Colonel Brandon Sir John Middleton speaks so highly of?" I asked with intrigue.

"Yes, although I regret to inform you that Sir John's compliments are of high exaggeration," he mused, "How is it that you know Sir John?"

"He is great friends with my father," I explained, "They have been friends since they were children."

"Then by all means, you must accompany me to Barton Park. Perhaps your presence will spare me the scolding of Sir John and Mrs. Jennings."

I smiled at his suggestion and replied, "I am sorry, Colonel, but I do not think I will be able to join you- my parents told me not to be long and I am afraid I have exceeded the boundaries of that time."

"I insist, Miss Jensen," he countered, and pulled his horse close. I looked at him for a time, and eventually conceded; I gave him a slightly defeated smile of acceptance, which he returned with a smile of latent triumph. "May I assist you in getting into the saddle?" he asked gently.

"Thank you, but that will not be necessary," I mused, and swung into the saddled with ease. I smirked at his look of surprise, and did not give him the satisfaction of an explanation. He carefully guided his horse along the road, and soon, we came upon the legendary Barton Park. The faint notes of an ethereal voice floated through the air and reached our ears; succumbed to the siren call, Colonel Brandon strode to the open front door. A pang of loss struck at my heart as I silently followed him- surely the one whom possessed such a hauntingly beautiful voice was equally beautiful. I recognised Sir John and Mrs. Jennings, his mother-in-law, immediately; however, there were four I did not recognise- one of them the beautiful woman singing whilst playing the pianoforte, whom appeared to be year or two younger than myself. Shortly after our arrival, the young woman finished her song; all of us, unfortunately including myself, applauded politely.

"Ah, Brandon, you've finally arrived!" Sir John exclaimed in his usual joyful manner, "What delayed you for so long?"

"May I introduce to you all to Miss Jensen, I happened upon her on my way to Barton," Colonel Brandon introduced me to the masses, but his tone was airy as though he was distracted. A quick glance at him explained why; he was entranced by the beauty beside the pianoforte

"Jensen? You wouldn't be relatives with a Sir Evan Jensen, would you?" Sir John inquired.

"Yes, I am related. I am his youngest daughter, Sir John," I replied with a warm smile.

"Bless my soul, I don't believe it! My dear Mrs. Jennings, this is little Kiley Sue!"

"Indeed it is! Oh my darling, look how beautiful you have become!" Mrs. Jennings exclaimed, and came up to me to take me by the hands, "How long has it been since we last saw one another?"

"Six years, Mrs. Jennings," I answered her. I did not remember much of their visit to my family's home; yet I distinctly remembered how kind they both were.

Sir John and Mrs. Jennings guided us into their gardens where they had prepared a picnic, and I was placed beside a woman, who I now knew to be Miss Elinor Dashwood, Marianne and Margaret's older sister, and a couple years my senior. She was a quiet, sensible woman, but I deeply enjoyed her company. Whilst I conversed with Elinor, Colonel Brandon doted upon the beautiful Marianne. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Margaret sitting there quietly at the table closest to my seat. "Margaret, could you come over here, please?" I asked her gently. She warily came over to Elinor's side, and I inquired, "Do you ride, Margaret?"

"Elinor is the rider," Margaret mumbled in reply.

"Is that true Elinor?"

"Yes, Miss Jensen; however, as of late, we have no horse to ride."

"By all means, you must come and ride with me!" I exclaimed, and then returned my attention to Margaret. "And you must come learn archery," I mused.

"Really?!" Margaret's eyes lit with her eagerness and she looked at me with awe. "Oh can we, Elinor? Please?" she beseeched her eldest sister.

"All right," Elinor acquiesced, "As long as it is not inconvenient to you and your family, Miss Jensen."

"Not at all, Miss Dashwood," I assured Elinor warmly, "I am the child left at home, so it would be wonderful to call upon friends to visit, so please- come at any time." Margaret dashed away to inform her mother no doubt. My gaze once again went to Colonel Brandon; he was a truly handsome man, and equally chivalrous. He strolled through the gardens with Marianne with an ever-present soft smile upturning his lips. I gazed longingly at Marianne, oh how I wished I could have been her, so beautiful that the colonel was immediately lulled to me. I looked away, and stared out at the distant horizon; far off, were the tiny specks of cirrus clouds, a tell-tale sign of approaching rain.

"Miss Jensen, do you happen to know of any gentleman, whose name begins with the letter 'F'?" Mrs. Jennings asked me suddenly.

I quirked my brow at such a bizarre inquiry, and did not fail to notice Elinor tense slightly. I cleared my throat gently and answered, "I am afraid I do not, Mrs. Jennings, but then again- I am not well acquainted with many gentlemen." I flashed Elinor an inconspicuous smile of sympathy, and my attention was caught by Mrs. Jennings' conversation with Elinor.

"...and look at him- so attentive!" she exclaimed softly, "Colonel brandon, would you play the pianoforte? It has been quite some time since you have played for us here at Barton."

"You have a superior musician here," Colonel Brandon replied while motioning to Marianne. I cursed myself for the lack of musical prowess; oh believe me, my mother tried every instrument under the sun, yet I could not play one fluidly and without effort...thus being the reason she permitted me to fence and train in archery and riding.

"You two could play a duet! Come now, Brandon, I am sure you know as many melancholy tunes as Miss Marianne," Mrs. Jennings chortled.

I do not know any duets- forgive me, Colonel," Marianne spoke in a slightly displeased tone, and went to go sit beside Elinor.

Colonel Brandon seemed to remember that I was present still, therefore, he came over to me. "Miss Jensen, please forgive me for my terrible excuse as your escort," he apologized.

"You are forgiven, Colonel Brandon; however, you will have to find a way to regain my favour."

He gave me a warm smile, and laughed softly. He offered his arm as he said, "Shall I take you home, your parents will surely be most distraught?" Wordlessly, I took his arm and waved farewell to the rest of the company. As we turned the corner, Colonel Brandon stole one last glance back at Marianne, and my heart sunk even lower in my stomach. Colonel Brandon's horse was brought to us, and he help me into the saddle. "In which direction is your home, Miss Jensen?" he asked me softly.

"A half mile south of Delaford, sir." I smiled when he seemed pleased at my close proximity to his own estate. From what I heard, Delaford was a beautiful three story house with spacious lawns, and I longed to behold it with my own eyes one day. Once again, he led me with great care and my fondness for him grew all the more.

Soon, too soon, we arrived at the front of my family's home. Colonel Brandon eyes swept over the recently manicured lawns and the house that dominated the attention of all those who beheld it. Personally, I thought the house was far too grandeur for a family as small as ours, but then again, it had been in the family for generations, and my father had recently inherited it- so not much was to be done to change it. "I am glad to see such a beautiful house filled once more," Colonel Brandon said softly.

"At first, I was quite angry to move away from the home I was born in, but now..." I paused and met his eye, "I find myself overjoyed to be here," I finished with a small smile.

The front doors opened, revealing my parents' figures, and prevented Colonel Brandon from voicing his reply. "Kiley, where have you been?" my mother asked frantically, "The horse you rode out on returned over an hour ago, yet you were not astride it! Your father and I assumed the worst had befallen you!"

"My humblest apologies, Lady and Sir Jensen, but all the blame lies with me," Colonel Brandon explained, "Upon freeing your daughter of her spooked horse, I insisted she join me for a picnic that was held at Barton Park."

"Barton Park?" my father inquired with latent eagerness, "Kiley, you saw my dear friend John?"

"Yes, Father," I replied, but kept my eyes on Colonel Brandon. "Thank you for escorting me, Colonel Brandon, that was most kind of you," I murmured so that only he could hear. I walked up the steps, and when I reached the top, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Colonel Brandon watching me. I gave him a smile and waved farewell; he mounted his horse and then dipped his head in return.

"He is a handsome man," my mother commented with an omnipotence bestowed only to mothers. I blushed at her words, an action that did not go unnoticed by my parents. My mother ushered me into the house, and my father followed us inside. Later, when I lay in bed that night, I imagined Colonel Brandon smiling at me as he did when he smiled at Marianne.


	2. Chapter 2

A week later, my mother sent me to town in search of more books for the both of us to read. I was exiting the bookstore when a familiar figure caught my attention. "Good afternoon, Colonel!" I called out gently to him in greeting, and began to walk towards him.

"Miss Jensen, good afternoon," he replied courteously, and bowed. Silently, he reached out and plucked a few tomes that were in quite a precarious position in my arms. "Shall I escort you to your carriage to ensure the safety of these works by the Bard?"

"Thank you, Colonel, but it will be to my horse, my mother had greater need for the carriage- not that I put up much quarrel over it, really," I replied with a smile.

"Which of these are to satisfy your thirst for literature?"

"The Shakespeare, unfortunately my mother fails to appreciate them," I mused as we walked down the street.

"Most unfortunate," he agreed, "What is your favourite, Miss Jensen?"

"_Julius Caesar_," I answered immediately. A few people along the street looked at us with conspicuous curiosity, which I found quite strange because surely I was not the first person the colonel had assisted. I saw Elinor walking in the opposite direction, but waved to her nonetheless.

"Such a violent playwright to have captured your interest, you surprise me, Miss Jensen."

"Although the battles and assassination are quite poetic and beautiful in their own right, that is not the reason for my adoration for it," I chided, "I appreciate the way the Bard depicts the opposite of his well-known Romanticisms with something that depicts man as a gullible, war-mongering creature full of weaknesses and shortcoming." I cleared my throat and inquired, "Do you possess a favourite of Shakespeare's work, Colonel?"

"I cannot decide between _Hamlet_ and _Julius Caesar_." His reply caused my face to break out in a huge smile, and soon thereafter, we arrived at the boarding stables. "Fetch this young woman her horse," Colonel Brandon instructed a young stable boy. The dirty-cheeked boy scurried away to fetch my beloved Perseus. The boy brought Perseus about, and I saw Colonel Brandon's eyes widen in astonishment. "_That_," Colonel Brandon sputtered as he gesticulated wildly at Perseus, "That is your horse?!"

"Yes, that beauty is mine," I answered, and walked up to Perseus. I pulled a ten and twenty pound notes out of my purse and handed it to the stable boy, Joseph. "Get you and Susan something to eat, and a new pair of shoes," I murmured. My smile grew as Joseph gazed at the notes in awe and then smiled up at me. I turned my attention to Perseus and I stroked his muzzle affectionately.

"But that horse is a behemoth!" Colonel Brandon observed. His comment was spot on, my horse was indeed quite the Colossus; he was a purebred Clydesdale, given to me as a colt when I was eight years' old. Perseus' coat was a gleaming ebony, with the exception of his shaggy, white knee-socks and the white strip that ran down the length of his forehead. Perseus snorted at Colonel Brandon's statement, which cause me laugh softly. I carefully tucked the newly purchased tomes away in my saddlebags, and returned my attention to the colonel. "Shall I assist you into the saddle, Miss Jensen?"

I blushed visibly, but still managed to reply, "I am quite capable, but thank you, Colonel." I swung into the saddle with ease, and Colonel Brandon flashed me an admiring smile.

"I admit that your horse suits you, Miss Jensen. Will you grant me permission to ride beside you?" he asked with a small smile.

"I would be honoured to share your company, Colonel," I replied, and waited for his horse to be brought to him. When his back was to me, I took the opportunity to admire him. Despite being five and thirty years of age, he was as physically fit as a man eight years or more his junior. I was pulled out of my reverie by the sight of the colonel mounting his horse and returning his attention to me. Wordlessly, I urged Perseus into a trot and exited the stables with Colonel Brandon following behind. As we left town, I saw Mrs. Jennings flit from person to person in her usual exuberant manner, and I could not help but smile at the sight.

"Does something amuse you?" Colonel Brandon inquired.

"I have come to realise Mrs. Jennings reminds me of one of those birds that is always flittering and chattering about," I answered fondly. To my surprise, my reply caused the colonel to let out a soft chuckle and nod in agreement. I waved to Lady Middleton and Mrs. Jennings as we rode past, and I did not miss Mrs. Jennings' inquisitive, albeit delighted gaze following after us.

Colonel Brandon and I were soon out of town, and we rode side by side in an amiable silence. I could not resist sneaking glances at him out of the corner of my eye, and on occasion, he would glance at me at the same moment and our eyes would meet-which caused my cheeks to burn with a fierce blush. On said times, Colonel Brandon would look at me with an unnameable look within his eye. I broke the comfortable silence by asking in challenge, "Do you dare to race to my home, Colonel?"

Colonel Brandon's response was not one of words, but instead he urged his horse into a gallop and catapulted away from me. Perseus needed no encouragement and was quickly gaining on the colonel despite his horse's light feet. My hair was whipped by the wind, and the pins holding it in place came undone; my hair uncoiled from its loosely braided bun, and my tendrils flew in the wind behind me. Perseus and the colonel's horse were neck to neck; I looked to the colonel and called out, "Do you yield?"

"I am afraid I must disappoint you once again, Miss Jensen!" Colonel Brandon leaned forward in the saddle, and his horse increased its speed.

I let out a gleeful laugh, and hollered, "Yah, Perseus!" Although Colonel Brandon's horse had the element of surprise, it could not best the sheer brute strength of my Perseus, and we gained on them once more. My home could be seen at the top of the hill, and the colonel was only a hand's width ahead of me. I was leaning completely out of my saddle and flat against Perseus' neck- our bodies full of adrenaline. "Yes!" I exclaimed as I pulled ahead, and covered the last distance to my home. I turned Perseus about and saw Colonel Brandon reining his horse to a stop behind me. "Well done, Colonel, you nearly had the victory," I congratulated him.

"Congratulations, Miss Jensen," he complimented, and then dismounted. Without voicing an inquiry as he did in previous times, he came to my side and placed his hands about my waist; with ease, he lifted me out of the saddle and set me on my feet. My face felt like it would burst into flames due to the severity of my blush; I peeked up at him from beneath my eyelashes, and noticed that our faces were tantalisingly close. I sucked in a soft, nervous breath and tried to muffle the conspicuous drumming of my thundering heart. "Can I call upon you tomorrow, Miss Jensen?" Colonel Brandon asked softly.

Momentarily trapped in a daze, I could only stare up at him; I blinked rapidly, and finally managed to reply, "I would be delighted, sir, until tomorrow."

"Farewell, Miss Jensen," he murmured, and took my hand and brushed my knuckles with his lips. I blushed even more, and turned my face away in another attempt to hide yet another blush. I watched the colonel mount his horse and ride away before I led Perseus into his stall within my family's stables.

"I see Colonel Brandon escorted you home," my mother mused knowingly as I came into the library to place the briefly forgotten tomes on the shelves. My mother smirked when she took note of my scintillating blush; fortunately, she did not voice her thoughts on that. Silently, she watched me leave the library with my worn, much beloved copy of _Julius Caesar_ in hand. I went into my chambers, and tried to read, but the image of Colonel Brandon kissing my hand kept repeating itself in my mind.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, I decided that while I waited for Colonel Brandon to arrive I would practice my archery. I changed into my fitted, soft leather trousers, and long sleeved shirt that hung loosely on my frame. I braided my hair into a thick plait that reached the bottom curve of my shoulder blades, and then set off to retrieve my bow from its place within my chambers. I slung my quiver over my shoulder, and raced outside. Already, the target was set up and waiting for my arrival. I strung my ebony recurve bow, and laced my arm guard; I smiled as I ran my fingers along the smooth wood, and then languidly knocked an arrow.

Unbeknownst to most, the small red circle that lay at the heart of the target is beyond the definition of tantalising...this one lay completely unscathed. Time and time again, the closest to the center any of my shots landed were the innermost of the pale ring that surrounded the red circle. I let out a faint groan as I straightened my back and shoulder, which were still stiff from the demanding and rigorous fencing practice I had had earlier that day. My fingers ran over the feathers at the base of the arrow, and I did not take my eyes off of the red circle painted upon the target. I drew the arrow back until the cock feather caressed the line of my jaw. I released the arrow, along with the breath I had been holding, and let the arrow fly. The arrow whistled through the air, and embedded its head into the blasted innermost part of the pale ring once more. I growled in frustration, and knocked another arrow; I released the arrow and taut bowstring and this time the arrow...landed within the red! "Yes!" I exclaimed, and then proceeded to fire at the other target surrounding me.

The sound of a twig snapping behind me caused me to spin on my heel- my bow knocked and ready to let loose an arrow. In the sights of my arrow shaft, I saw Colonel Brandon before me with his hands held up in supplication, along with an amused grin on his face. I gasped and swiftly lowered my bow, and then returned the unshot arrow to my quiver. "My apologies for startling you, Miss Jensen," he said, "However, I compliment you on the speed of your reaction rate, along with your skill at archery."

I could not help it- at the sight of him my face broke out into a smile. I slung my bow across my shoulder, and walked up to him. As I did so, Colonel Brandon's eyes glanced to stare at my leather clad legs. "Pardon my unseemly apparel, but I find archery far more difficult than it already is when I am in a dress," I explained hastily. "Excuse me for a moment," I added and went into the house. My maid, dear Anna, swiftly helped me into a loose fitting dress.

"Is that Colonel Brandon out by your archery arena?" my mother asked as she looked out the window of the drawing room.

I ignored her knowing tone, and continued out to meet the colonel. "How are you today, Colonel Brandon?" I asked, slightly breathless.

"I have been well, and you, Miss Jensen?"

"Exhausted," I admitted, and flopped unceremoniously to sit on the ground. "Will you sit with me, Colonel?" I looked up at him with beseeching eyes, and a small smile upturned the corners of my lips. To my surprise, he did as I had requested; we sat side by side and watched in the wind catch in my mother's gardens. "Have you heard from the Dashwoods recently, sir?" I asked faintly.

"Actually, I have. Margaret is impatiently waiting for to send an invitation to your home as Elinor thinks it improper to show up with being called upon. Also, Marianne is nursing a twisted ankle she during those days of rain from the week past." The concern for Marianne was quite apparent in his voice, and caused my heart to ache.

"Ah yes," I commented, "I must send them a letter then- I should have already since I guessed Miss Dashwood would react that way. Also, Mrs. Jennings informed my mother at their most recent tea social of some new arrival that resides in Allenham with their aunt."

Colonel Brandon tensed at the new subject and answered somewhat curtly, "Yes, that would be the Mr. John Willoughby of Combe Magma in Somersetshire." Throwing caution and conventionalism into the wind, I reached out and gently squeezed his hand as a show of sympathy. He flashed me a grateful smile and said, "Miss Jensen, you are unconventionally kind, but it is most appreciated."

"Thank you, that is most of kind you to say, Colonel," I replied without missing a beat. I drew my hand away from his, and hoped he did not see how wistful my expression was. I looked out upon the distance, and loved how I could not see a cloud in sight.

"Have you any siblings, Miss Jensen?" he asked randomly.

"I have two elder sisters. My eldest sister resides in London with her husband and two children, and my older sister is currently abroad in Italy."

Before Colonel Brandon could make any remark, we were startled by, "Brandon, my boy! There ye are- and with the lovely Miss Jensen too!" We snapped our heads about and saw Sir John and Mrs. Jennings exiting the house and approaching us.

"I do declare, Miss Jensen, do you play that exquisite pianoforte in your family's drawing room? I insist you play for us all!" Mrs. Jennings exclaimed in her usual jovial manner.

My cheeks flushed with mortification, and I did not reply. I cast my eyes downward in my rapidly growing embarrassment and tried not to project my discomfort; Colonel Brandon caught my gaze and his eyes searched my face. His eyes softened as he realised the reason behind my discomfort, I did not play the pianoforte...at all. My older sister was the one whom possessed the gift of the ivory. I, on the other hand, possessed only the gifts of the sword, quill, and bow. "Mrs. Jennings," Colonel Brandon called out, drawing the attention to him, "I have failed to play for you as of late, and I would like to do so now. If I am granted permission, Miss Jensen?"

"O-Of course," I stammered. Colonel Brandon rose to his feet, and then held out his hand for me to take; I blushed faintly when I took his offered hands and he pulled me to my feet. I led everyone inside, and sat in the chair I usually reserved for writing. I watched Colonel Brandon stride over to the pianoforte, and take a seat on the bench. He looked over to me, and stared at me for a few moments, and I looked at him with a confused expression.

He cleared his throat, and began to play. His fingers gently danced across the keys, and the music sweetened the air. I closed my eyes, and briefly imagined an unknown couple dancing with languid familiarity under the solver caress of the moonlight. When I opened my eyes, my gaze fixed upon Colonel Brandon once more. His attention was dominated by his dancing fingers, like a mortal enraptured by a deity. My heart fluttered like a caged birds, whose wings were clipped yet still longed to fly; he was utterly bewitching as he carefully brought the piece to its end.

While everyone was complimenting Colonel Brandon on his splendid performance and applauding politely, I crept out of the house and to the sanctuary of the stables to evade Mrs. Jennings demand that I play next. I wordlessly entered Perseus' stall, and climbed onto his back. I rested my head between his massive shoulder blades, and I let out a barely audible sigh. "That was a nightmare, Perseus, thank heavens Mrs. Jennings has failed to discover my stories hidden amongst the shelves of the library," I mumbled into my most trusted confidant's mane.

"If I were not a proper gentleman, I would be insulted that you slipped away as soon as the opportunity arose," the colonel's voice mused, and I raised my head and found him standing outside the stall. Again, I nervously played with my plaited hair, and an amused smile grew on Colonel Brandon's face. "A habit of yours?" he asked in good nature.

"Actually, no- as a matter of fact, I have never been one to fiddle with my hair until now," I admitted.

"I have come to inform you that I am returning to Delaford momentarily."

A frown nagged at my lips, and I scowled slightly. "I am sorry I am such an abysmal hostess, but I enjoyed your company immensely, sir."

"Your sentiments are returned, and I hope to see in the near future, Miss Jensen." With that, Colonel Brandon fetched his horse, which was already saddled, and then departed. I gave Perseus an affectionate rub, and then slid off his back.

"There you are, Miss Jensen, I had begun to think you had disappeared!" Mrs. Jennings exclaimed as I entered the house once more.

"Forgive my sudden absence, Mrs. Jennings, but I suddenly felt ill and thought that some fresh air would right my head," I brushed away her comment with an airy lie. I went to my desk, and quickly wrote Elinor a brief letter.

_**Miss Dashwood, **_

_**According to a most reliable source, you have not come to call due to the boundaries of propriety; however, instead of chiding you as I am opt to do, I invite you and Margaret to visit my home the day after next. Miss Marianne and your dear mother are more than welcome to join you, if they so desire. **_

_**Sincerely, **_

_**Kiley S. Jensen**_

"Mrs. Jennings," I finally mustered the patience to talk to the woman again, "Would you be so kind as deliver this message to Miss Dashwood on the way home to Barton Park, please?"

"Why of course, my dear!"

I handed her the note addressed to Elinor, and then faintly excused myself from their company. I went upstairs to my chambers, and sat in the alcove of my window. I watched Sir john and Mrs. Jennings leave some time later, and wished that I possessed a talent worth having...worth being able to perform or share. What use was the eloquent use of the English language when women were to be and not heard? I freed my hair from its confinement, and ran my fingers through it absentmindedly. I gazed out my window and watched the sun dip beneath the distant line of trees. I smiled when I saw the last blip of the elusive, legendary flash of green that my father told me about when I was a little girl. The night chill settled within the house, and forced me to slip into my bed. With a mind overwhelmed with bewildering thoughts, I fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

"Miss Dashwood and Miss Margaret are here to see you, Miss," Gerard, our beloved butler, announced as I descended the main stairs.

"Excellent, let them into the drawing room please, Gerard," I replied, and readjusted the unstrung bow, which was safely ensconced by my arms with great care, and hoped that Margaret would enjoy it. I smiled when half of the Dashwood women came into view, and greeted them warmly, "Good afternoon, ladies."

"Good afternoon, Miss Jensen. Thank you for having us in your home," Elinor replied politely; meanwhile, Margaret was a fidgeting, bundle of barely bridled anticipation.

"Are you ready to begin, Margaret?" I asked with a smile. I laughed softly behind a well-placed hand when Margaret nodded her head vigorously. "But first," I added, "You need to open up this parcel for me; it appears to have your name upon it."

Margaret took the parcel with forced patience, as most children are taught to do; she walked over to a small table nearby, and promptly took a seat. She proceeded to rip apart the wrappings, and looked at the long, thin wooden chest with innocent intrigue. She carefully- almost hesitantly- undid the clasp, and lifted the lid; her eyes grew wide, and she jerked her head to look at me with such intensity, her curls bounced about her face. "Is it really to be mine?" she asked, her eyes alight with hope.

I smiled at her again, and answered, "Yes, it is yours." I walked up to her, and gazed down at the contents of the chest with a nostalgic smile. "I cannot think of any other more deserving to be its keeper, I entrust my first bow to you...I received it when I was about your age, so I thought it would be grand to make a tradition of it." I picked up the now small, recurve bow and handed it to Margaret. Her wide eyes flashed from the bow to me, and I handed her a matching quiver filled with dull-tipped, practice arrows, and strapped it across her back. "There you are," I mused.

"Elinor, can you believe it? Miss Jensen has given me her first bow!"

"A most generous gift, thank you, Miss Jensen."

I nodded and wordlessly guided Elinor and Margaret out into my archery area. After I had patiently instructed Margaret the proper form, I went to sit with Elinor while Margaret practiced. "She is a very sweet girl," I commented warmly.

"Yes, but also very wild and spirited," Elinor sighed.

"I find that a highly admirable trait, Miss Dashwood. Don't judge young Margaret too harshly, she is young," I chided her softly. Elinor stared at me curiously, and I met her gaze with a confused, quirked brow. "Miss Dashwood?"

"You are a peculiar young woman, Miss Jensen. But I find your person most agreeable."

"Thank you, and I believe I will find a great friend in you," I agreed. "Where are your mother and Marianne?"

"Mister Willoughby was calling upon Marianne today," Elinor explained.

"Pardon me if I am overstepping boundaries, but do you find anything...odd about Mr. Willoughby?"

Elinor looked slightly surprised, and she did not say anything. I grew uneasy, and hoped that I did not insult Elinor too greatly; I nibbled my lower lip in an attempt to expel my nerves. "I am surprised that you mentioned that, Miss Jensen; you have not met Mr. Willoughby in person, yet you voice a concern that I shared with my mother," Elinor assuaged my fear, and she seemed, at that moment, finally at ease with my company.

"Look, Kiley- I hit the target!" Margaret exclaimed drawing our attention away from the current conversation. Her most recently fired arrow was in the middle of the outermost ring.

"Congratulations, Margaret! You have done quite well, better than I did," I praised her, and went up to her. She smiled up at me, all traces of shyness gone, and I reciprocated her smile. I looked at Elinor over my shoulder and asked her, "Would you like to join me for a ride while Margaret can peruse the library to her heart's content- I believe my father possesses a wonderful atlas she can peruse?"

"That sounds most agreeable, Miss Jensen," Elinor answered.

I turned to Gerard, who had been standing by the entire time, and said, "Gerard, please take Miss Margaret into the library and should she require anything, I would appreciate it if you saw to it personally."

"Of course, Miss, right away."

Elinor and I walked to the stables, and I noticed Elinor was fiddling with something in her dress' pocket. "Select whatever horse you want; just not my behemoth, as the colonel loves to call him, who is currently stuffing his gob," I commented wryly, and smiled at the recollection of Colonel Brandon's last picnic.

Elinor walked up to a stall that contained a chestnut mare my father recently purchased. A wistful expression took hold of her features, but she said nothing to explain. With gentle fingers, she caressed the mare's muzzle and then smiled. A stable worker assisted her in saddling her horse, and as she slipped into the saddle- a handkerchief fell out of her pocket. I walked to it, and plucked the handkerchief up off the ground, Perseus following behind me. The sewn initials, '_E.F._' caught my attention, Elinor looked at me with a wary expression. I smiled faintly at her, and handed her her handkerchief, which once belonged to her mysterious '_E.F._,' without a word.

I mounted Perseus, and shortly thereafter, Elinor and I departed. With only a quick glance, I could tell how much Elinor enjoyed being back in the saddle; we rode in an amiable silence, and my already uplifted spirits rose at the sight of the line of trees that marked the beginning of Delaford. We rode a circuit about my family's estate, and then returned to the house.

"Thank you for the ride, Miss Jensen, it was most enjoyable," Elinor thanked me.

I waved her thanks away with an airy hand, and when we walked into the library- I lurched to a stop. In Margaret's hands, was one of the many books I had written and safely hidden away amongst the seemingly endless tomes. Margaret looked up from the book, and spoke in clear awe, "Elinor, you won't believe how amazing this story is! And Kiley wrote it with her own hand!"

I blushed and wished that the floor would swallow me up. Elinor looked at me with a nonjudgmental, quirked brow; Margaret rose from her place on the floor with the book clutched gently in her hands. "It is a hobby of mine- just a whimsical pursuit- a fancy, if you will," I explained with latent haste.

"May I borrow it so that I may finish it, oh please, Kiley?" Margaret beseeched.

"Margaret, I do not think that it would appropriate," Elinor chided gently.

"No," I corrected, and then met Margaret's eye. "Margaret," I instructed, kneeling down to meet her gaze evenly, "You have to promise me you will take utmost care with that book, it is the only one in existence."

"Oh I promise!" Margaret agreed enthusiastically. She hugged the innocuous, leather-bound journal that contained nights of little or no sleep, the unignorable desire I possessed to see words to consume the page, and my naïve dream to be an author.

I walked them out, and held an arm up in farewell; my father's spare carriage carefully carried them home to Barton Cottage. Just as I turned to enter the house, the sound of another approaching caught my attention. It did not take me long to recognise the people that were occupying said carriage; my heart warmed at the sight of my eldest sister and her family. I hurried down the steps, and impatiently for the carriage to pull to a stop.

The door burst open, and my eight year old nephew, Ayden, came flying towards me. I pulled him into a fierce embrace and peppered his face with kisses. "Oh, how I missed you!" I exclaimed when he began to fuss and pull away.

"You would not believe the volume of noise that child possesses!" a good natured, melodic voice mused from the carriage. I looked up and saw my sister emerging with Elias, her second born son. Her hair, the flawless colour of flax, and pure azure eyes were only the beginning of her beauty, Where she possessed gentle curves, I had sinewy limbs and lithe muscles; where she was light, I was dark- at times I wondered how we looked so akin. My sister, Marci, glided down the steps of the carriage, and when she reached me- she embraced me with her free arm. "It is good to see you, sister, quite a lot of time has passed since we saw each other last," she spoke softly.

"Agreed," I replied, and held her tightly. When Elias, one of the most independent and spirited one year olds, began to fuss- I laughed, "Oh, stop whining and come here to me!" I held him in my arms and placed a gentle kiss on his brow. A smile broke out on his face, and he placed a slobbery kiss of his own on my neck. "Marci, what are you doing here? Not that I mind your arrival."

Marci laughed softly, and answered, "Leave it to Father to neglect to mention our visit. But let's not linger on that, come, you must tell me everything about our new home!" She led me away, and we found ourselves in the library. "Now, little sister, tell me- who is he?" Marci asked expectantly.

A blush blossomed on my cheeks, and I stammered, "P-Pardon? Wh- Whom?"

"Kiley," Marci began, "I am your sister, and what kind of sister would I be if I could not tell when you have found a man that somehow managed to capture your heart?"

Elias' hand latched onto the pendant about my neck, and I gently pried his hand away. "He is a great man, and I find him most handsome," I finally managed to say, and tried to will my blush away. "Also, he seems to appreciate what others find to be unconventional or austere about me," I added with a faint smile.

"Is this the Colonel Brandon that Mama has mentioned multiple times in her letters, who visits regularly?"

"Yes," I said breathlessly. I ran my fingers through Elias' hair when he laid his head in the crook of my shoulder as he started to fall asleep. I imagined the colonel here, and wondered what he would think of my eldest sister; no doubt he would find her beautiful, as had many men before- and no doubt ones she will meet in the future; my mind drifted off, and I faintly heard my sister talking. "Excuse me?" I asked faintly.

Marci rolled her eyes and repeated, "I hope you are less conspicuous around the colonel, for your sake."


	5. Chapter 5

A few days later, I was surprise when Gerard announced that Colonel Brandon was here, and wished to speak with me. I set the book I had been reading aside on a nearby table, and nervously fixed any flyaway hairs and the skirts of my dress while I walked downstairs to meet the colonel in the lobby. "Good afternoon, Colonel!" I greeted the man warmly, and was silently overjoyed to see him smile when he saw me.

"Good afternoon, Miss Jensen, I hope you are well, and that you can forgive my intrusion. I have come here to issue an invitation," he replied as he took of his hat.

"Yes?"

"A picnic at my home," he announced.

"A picnic...at Delaford?!" I asked with incredulous anticipation.

"Yes, and I hope that you agree to attend.'

"I would be-" I began, meeting his ensnaring hazel eyes with my brown.

"-Run, Aunt Kiley, it's a renegade soldier!" Ayden cried out. He charged towards Colonel Brandon with a wooden practice sword in hand, and swung it at the colonel's side.

The colonel dodged the strike with uncanny ease, and ended up behind me. "I am afraid to inform you that I have the upper hand," Colonel Brandon chuckled, slipping into his assumed character with ease.

"Do no fear, Aunt Kiley, I will save you from this villain!"

"James, sweetie, I am all right- I promise. This man here is my very good friend, Colonel Brandon, and he is a guest," I explained with well-practice patience.

"Colonel?" Ayden asked eagerly, then snapped to attention. "Forgive me, sir!" he barked out, and saluted the colonel.

To my amusement, the colonel returned my nephew's salute, and replied, "Carry on, soldier." As Ayden dashed away, he mused, "A fine young man he will become." He turned to look at me and repeated, "Will you attend the picnic, Miss Jensen?"

"We would be delighted to attend, sir!" Marci answered in my stead as she walked in from the door that connected to her rooms. She curtsied flawlessly and gave the colonel a beautiful smile, "Hello, sir, my name is Lady Marci Davenport, pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said.

Colonel Brandon bowed and replied, "Good afternoon, my name is Colonel Christopher Brandon. You must be one of Miss Jensen's older sisters."

"I am," Marci agreed, and then looked to me, "Sister, you must excuse me, but I need to go check on the baby."

Colonel Brandon and I were once again alone, and I peeked at his handsome face from beneath my lashes; he watched my sister leave, then spoke, "Miss Jensen, is it true that you are a writer?"

I blanched violently and stammered, "My pieces are anything b-but extraordinary, Colonel. Who, i-if I may inquire, w-was the one who told you?"

"Well it was two people, in fact, I was first alerted by young Margaret Dashwood when I had inquired about the book that she was avidly reading. Then shortly thereafter, Elinor confirmed her sister's compliments-"

"-Elinor read the story too?" I interjected in an incredulous whisper. I buried my face in my hands, and vigorously shook my head.

Gentle hands wrapped about my wrists and pulled my hands away. "Miss Jensen, it was not my intention to embarrass you, I merely wanted to ascertain the Dashwood's information," he said softly, his unique voice gently soothing my troubled mind. "And perhaps, you would permit me to read one of your pieces?" At my look of complete mortification, he smiled and retracted his last inquiry.

"Forgive my refusal, sir, but I have never intended to share any of my writings," I explained faintly.

"That is quite all right, Miss Jensen, I do not hold it against you," he murmured, and gave me a smile. He ran a hand through his hair, and then said, "I will see you tomorrow afternoon, Miss Jensen, and I hope you have a good day." He bowed and then departed.

I leaned against the wall with a sigh, and tried to rein in my frantic heartbeats. I smiled faintly at the recollection of how well the colonel reacted to my nephew's assault, and muffled my laughter with a hand. I went into my chambers, and instinctively made my way to the desk in my study. The blank pages of a recently purchases leather- bound journal sang its siren call; I slid into the chair, and picked up the quill. The words once again took possession of my hand, and they began to consume the page like fire. I continued to write until the sun began to dip behind the horizon, and when I set the quill down, I fell into a slight, dazed sleep.

"Aunt Kiley, Grandmama says it is time for dinner," James informed me from the doorway.

"Coming," I murmured- my thoughts still on Colonel Brandon.

The next day, I found myself in a frenzied state as I attempted to get ready for the picnic at Delaford. Anna laid out dress after dress, but I could not come to a decision. "Begging your pardon, Miss, but might I make a suggestion?" she finally inquired, albeit hesitantly.

"Of course, Anna, I need all the help that can be offered!" I exclaimed.

"I suggest the cream one there," she said, and pointed to the aforementioned dress. Without a word, she eased me into the dress, and pushed me down into my chair in front of my vanity. Anna carefully brushed out my hair until it fell to my hips in dark brown waves. With dexterous fingers, Anna braided my hair into a French plait along my skull, and then with the tendrils, she twisted them into a bun that rested at the back of my head.

"Thank you, Anna," I smiled at her reflection, "You certainly make my life much easier and therefore, bearable."

She blushed and made incoherent stammers; in the end, she merely bowed her head and gave me a bashful smile. "The colonel is a very lucky man, Miss," she murmured. This time, I was the one who blushed, and rose to my feet.

"Oh, Kiley, you look beautiful!" my mother exclaimed breathlessly, and she looked to my older sister and asked, "What do you think, Marci?"

My sister's calculating azure eyes fell upon me, and I felt like an insect under a scientist's magnifying glass. She made a noncommittal noise in her throat, and came up to me. She reached up and pulled two strands out of the bun to cup my face. "There," she said approvingly, "Much softer."

Within the hour, we were pulling into Delaford's drive, and I could not contain my awe at seeing Delaford for the first time. Columns lined the corners of the three story brick manor, but what I loved most about the ethereal house was the many windows it possessed. However, my joy grew tenfold at the sight of Colonel Brandon approaching our stopping carriage. "There he is, Elias, there's the colonel," I whispered to the baby fast asleep in my arms.

The carriage door opened and I was met by Colonel Brandon. His eyes widened at the sight of the sleeping infant in my arms. "H-Hello, Miss Jensen," he stammered in greeting. He cleared his throat and explained, "You are the first to arrive- Miss Jensen, may I offer you a tour of Delaford while we wait?"

"Oh, I would love to see your wonderful home, sir!" I gasped in excitement.

"Give me my baby back, and enjoy your tour," my sister instructed, and held out her arms for Elias.

I did as she instructed, and then made to gracefully exit the carriage; however, my sister seemed to have a different notion. She subtly slid out her foot, so that mine caught hers, and I began to fall out of the carriage. Colonel Brandon's arms shot out and cradled me to him. I collided into his chest and was enveloped by his scent, which was something distinctly masculine. Colonel Brandon reached up and brushed away the hair that had fallen into my face, and gave me a smile. "Are you all right, Miss Jensen- is your person injured in any way?"

"Ye-Yes, I think so. Th-Thank you, Colonel," I stammered in reply, a blush paintin my cheeks. My blush grew in intensity when I realised that the colonel still held me so tenderly in his arms. "Shall we begin our tour?" I inquired breathlessly.

"Ah yes," Colonel Brandon answered after a few moments, and released me from his hold. He bowed cordially to my family, whom were all watching our interaction with unreadable expressions, and then offered me his arm. I took it with a smile, and he led me to his home.

"Miss Jensen, I hope you can forgive me for my austere behaviour upon greeting you- I was shocked beyond form of speech," he said, breaking away from his descriptions of passing architecture or art, "At first..." he hesitated, but then continued somewhat hasty, "I believed your youngest nephew to actually be your own child. Forgive me."

"There is nothing to that needs to be forgiven, Colonel, I assure you," I assuaged him, and smiled warmly. An irksome thought slipped into my mind, and I looked at him cautiously as I asked with great trepidation.

He took some time gather his thoughts, and with each passing moment, my fear- though highly irrational- increased. He bent his head to meet my downcast eyes, and when he did he spoke, "If I did not know of your good and virtuous nature, Miss Jensen, and that child was indeed yours; I would never think any less of you." His sincere words left a remarkable impression upon my heart, and I smiled brightly up at him.

"Sir, more of your guests have arrived," Colonel Brandon's butler announced, thoroughly startling the both of us.

"After you, Miss Jensen," the colonel said softly, motioning towards the front door. I dipped my head in thanks, and swiftly made my way out of Delaford.

I smiled when I saw Elinor, Margaret, and Marianne emerge from a carriage with the Middletons and Mrs. Jennings. "Hello," I called out to them, and gently waved.

"Kiley!" Margaret exclaimed, and raced towards me with her beautiful curls flying about her. I bent down and wrapped my arms about her with the same enthusiasm she did for me. "I've missed you, and so has Elinor, but she won't ever tell," she told me with a roll of her eyes.

I laughed softly and replied, "I have missed your company as well, and so you must come visit soon for I have a surprise you."

"Miss Jensen, come over here, my dear girl!" Mrs. Jennings called out to me. I took Margaret by the hand, and walked over to the small group that had assembled. "May I introduce Miss Lucy Steele, a relative of mine," she explained.

"Pleasure," I replied politely, but something about the woman before me set me ill at ease. She was attractive, that much was true, but there lie a malicious glint in her eye- especially when she looked upon Elinor- and that made me question her intentions for her visit here. My eyes narrowed at the hungry, vengeful glance she shot at Elinor, and I unconsciously tensed.

"So this is the Miss Jensen you mentioned time and time again in your letters, Mama," an unknown, older woman remarked cheerily, who bore a resemblance to Lady Middleton and Mrs. Jennings. So this was the empty-headed, gossip-driven, Charlotte Palmer, Mrs. Jennings' youngest daughter.

I looked to Elinor, and she flashed me a sympathetic, albeit wry, smile. I gently release Margaret's hand and watched her race after Sir John and my father, who had a flying kite in their possession. I approached Elinor and murmured, "It is good to see you, Miss Dashwood," I said as I reached out to embrace her.

"Likewise, Miss Jensen, and again I thank you for befriending Margaret."

"As I too have said before, she is a very sweet girl."

"Miss Jensen, is that Lady Davenport over there?" Lucy Steele interjected with an excited gasp, "I hear her husband is worth over fifty thousand pounds!"

"Yes, Miss Steele, that is Lady Davenport, and I would appreciate it if you would refrain from talking in such an unbecoming manner about my sister and brother-in-law," I answered her coolly, and eyed her with latent disapproval. Elinor hid her slight smirk behind a well- placed hand; however, that did not seem to matter as Lucy Steele was utterly oblivious to her actions as her eyes were fixed upon mine. I did not relent, and accepted her challenge, it was women like her who pushed around Elinor and made fun of girls like Margaret- I had endured my fair share of women like her, and I was now in a position to prevent it...so I did so- quite happily.

"Miss Jensen, may I steal you away from Miss Dashwood's side?" Colonel Brandon asked as he approached me out of nowhere.

"Of course, sir, excuse me ladies," I answered, and smiled brightly at the colonel. We walked away from the group in a slightly disconcerting silence; my arm twitched to reach out and wrap around his, or hold his hand. 'I hope you won't think too harshly on Miss Steele's character-"

"-I would not have been so irked if it were not for the unease I felt when becoming acquainted with her person, and the fact that it was my sister. Forgive me, Colonel, I should not speak ill of someone, especially at a party," I interrupted him, and finished with a sigh. I fiddled with my hands, and jerked in surprise when one of his hands wrapped about them. My heart fluttered in my chest, and I looked up to stare into his eyes. The sincere look in his eyes had me once again wishing that I was Marianne Dashwood, the one who held his affection.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut short by the sound of thundering horse hooves and an unknown man calling out, "Colonel Brandon?"

"Over here!" my dear colonel exclaimed. The rider hurried up to him, and handed Colonel Brandon a letter. The colonel ripped away the wax seal, and read the letter with a ravenous hunger. "Fetch my horse- quickly!" he shouted suddenly.

"I hope it isn't something serious, Colonel," Mrs. Jennings asked loudly.

"I must away to London," he explained hastily as he reached for his horse's reins.

"Surely it can wait until tomorrow-" Sir John began.

"-I cannot afford to lose one hour," Colonel Brandon shouted, his handsome features warped with worry. "Forgive me," he said, considerably soft. But when he said those words, his eyes once more met mine, and it felt like he was speaking only to me. He stopped momentarily, his head craned over his shoulder, and he looked at me once more. At that moment I had never wished to be alone, so that I could tell that I wished him back at Delaford already- and he too seemed to wish to speak with me; however, it was not to be- he spun his horse about, and galloped away.


	6. Chapter 6

Willoughby, whom I had not seen arrive; spoke in a falsely soft tone, "There are some people who cannot bear a party of pleasure. Brandon is one of them. He is afraid of catching cold, I dare say, and invented this trick of getting out of it. I would lay fifty guineas the letter was of his writing." Marianne giggled coquettishly, and nodded in agreement.

Out of nowhere, and to my great pleasure, Ayden lunged at Willoughby and hit him in the abdomen with a clenched fist. "Don't talk about the colonel like that!" my wonderful nephew growled.

"Ayden!" Marci's voice cut through the sounds of astonished gasps, "Apologise now."

Willoughby clutched his stomach, and Marianne eyes my nephew with disdain. "You heard your mother, apologise," Marianne agreed.

Ayden, an eternally sensitive soul, bit his trembling lower lip and stammered, "B-But he spoke poorly o-of the c-c-c-colonel."

"Leave him alone, Marianne!" Margaret exclaimed as Marianne opened her mouth to fillet Ayden, and strode to my nephew's side. "He is only eight years' old, do not be too harsh on him," she finished softly. She wrapped an arm about my nephew's shoulders and gave him an encouraging smile. At that moment, I knew that Ayden and Margaret had both gained a new friend.

"Mother," I spoke softly, and after successfully gaining her attention continued, "I am feeling ill, might we return home?"

"Of course, my dear. Ayden, come along before you inflict any further damage." Our carriage was brought up, and we left after I had Elinor promise me she would visit me and would bring Margaret along. The carriage ride home was a silent one, and I had my forehead pressed against the cool glass.

"Fret not, dear sister, I doubt your colonel will remain in London long," Marci murmured softly, but I did not heed her words.

The image of the colonel's distraught face burned through my mind, and a grimace flickered across my features. Whatever or whomever was the cause of the colonel's abrupt, panicked departure, I hoped that all was well- or soon would be. My head ached from my hair's tight confinement, and so I deftly pulled the pins out of my thick tresses. A sigh unconsciously fell past my lips, and I ran nervous hands through my hands.

"Kiley, don't slouch," my mother chided half-heartedly, but the majority of her attention was fixed upon my uneasy expression. She reached across the carriage and gently squeezed my hand with hers, then flashed me a small, albeit sympathetic, smile.

I straightened my back as she requested, but soon found myself slouching once more. My mother said nothing this time, and for that I was grateful. I twirled a strand of hair absentmindedly, and tried to push away the ever growing ache in my heart.

A few days later, Gerard came to me in my study and informed me that the Dashwoods had arrived. I plastered a smile on my face, and followed Gerard downstairs to greet them. "It's so good to see you all! Marianne, I am so glad you could finally visit!" I exclaimed gently, and pulled her into a brief embrace. I noticed the dark rings under her eyes that matched my own, and the overall crestfallen expression- I knew what she was feeling...heartbreak. I shot Elinor a concerned look, and she returned my gaze with an unreadable expression.

"Kiley! Kiley! I brought my bow, can I go out to the archery arena?"

"Of course, Margaret...and Marianne, there is a Broadwood grand that has been bereft of a play for far too long if you wish to play," I explained. A faint smile threatened to upturn the corner of Marianne's lips, and she glided into the open drawing room where the piano lie in wait. Elinor watched her younger sister with a gaze of concern, and a frown marred her features when Marianne began to play a most melancholy tune.

"Elinor, whatever is the matter with Marianne? Have she and Mr. Willoughby quarreled?"

"If only it were that simple, Miss Jensen, might we take a walk?" Elinor motioned to the door Margaret had previously exited; we walked out of the house side by side before she continued, "What I am about to tell you, Miss Jensen, is in utmost confidence. A few days ago, on Sunday past actually, Mr. Willoughby requested a private audience with Marianne. We, meaning everyone, believed that Willoughby was to ask for Marianne's hand in marriage; however, that was not the case. We returned from church to Barton Cottage, where we found Marianne in tears, and Willoughby at great unease. Apparently, Mr. Willoughby was being sent away by his aunt to London for business...indefinitely."

"Oh, poor Marianne!" I gasped, and in the back of my mind, I made note to give Willoughby a thorough piece of my mind. "Is there anything I could do to help?"

"I am afraid not," Elinor sighed, "Even I am of little help."

"Oh Kiley, there you are! Oh," Marci cut herself off before she continued, "Forgive me, I did not know you had company. But I came to inform you that Mother wishes for you to join me in London when I return tomorrow."

"Oh," I commented weakly, not that pleased at being sent to town and away from Elinor. "Thank you, Marci, excuse us," I mumbled half-heartedly. Elinor and I continued our stroll, although a silence had fallen over us.

"How long do you think you will be away?" Elinor inquired softly.

"Knowing my mother and sister, for as long as they can confine me there- I hate going to London, it's dreadfully crowded and yet there are barely any good, warm hearted people there," I replied dryly, unconsciously playing with the pendant about my neck.

"What is the inscription on your pendant, Miss Jensen?"

"Oh, that reminds me- I nearly forgot," I gasped, and grabbed Elinor by the hand. I led her back to the house and up to my bed chambers. I grabbed the carefully wrapped, small parcel from my desk, and ran back outside with a jostled Elinor in tow. "I almost forgot to give Margaret her present," I explained breathlessly to Elinor, and we walked to the archery arena. "Margaret, I have a gift for you!" I called out to young girl.

Margaret bounded over to us and I handed her the parcel. With barely contained enthusiasm, she opened the wrappings and with sudden hesitancy lifted off the lid of the small box. "It's beautiful!" Margaret exclaimed as she gazed up at me with incredulous eyes. "Is it really mine?" she asked.

"Yes, indeed. I received one just like it from my father when I was about your age, and every female warrior needs to bear the symbol of Artemis proudly," I laughed softly as I took the necklace in hand and clasped it about Margaret's neck. The pendant, which was identical to mine, bore a new moon with a gold bow and arrow engraved below it engraved upon the face of the moon, and the pendant caught brilliant in the light. I smiled and said warmly, "You are most welcome, little one. It is good to have a comrade in arms around here."

"It appears that it is time for us to return to Barton Cottage, thank you again, Miss Jensen," Elinor said warmly as Marianne strolled up to us.

"Will you be attending the small party the Middletons are hosting at Barton, Miss Jensen?" Marianne asked softly. I smiled at her, albeit slightly envious that she still managed to remain breathtakingly beautiful even when she was so conspicuously forlorn.

"I did not plan to attend, but if you all are to be going, then I believe I have changed my mind...much to Mrs. Jennings' delight."

I could not help but silently agree with Mr. Palmer's audible sigh as we watched Mrs. Jennings, Palmer, and Dashwood play a game of cards. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Miss Lucy Steele and Elinor in deep conversation coming towards me. I noticed that as Miss Steele continued to ramble on and on, Elinor became all the more tense- and exceedingly pale. I listened intently, but only caught a part of what Lucy Steele was saying, "...engaged...Edward Ferrars..." Elinor's face blanched more, and that was when I knew I had to do something for Elinor. Thinking quickly, I feigned rising unsteadily to my feet and let out a startled gasp and fell to the floor.

"Oh my heavens!" Mrs. Jennings exclaimed, and I heard multiple pairs of feet hurry towards me. I continued to remain "unconscious" and felt someone propping me against them.

"Kiley?" Elinor whispered frantically as the arms around me tightened, and that was when I discovered the person holding me was her.

"What happened?" Margaret cried out, and I felt her hand take hold of one of mine. I felt guilty for upsetting her and her eldest sister so, but obviously Lucy Steele was starting to show her true colours and had unsettled the sensible Elinor Dashwood.

"She must have fainted, poor dear, she has been a mess ever since the colonel left for London according to her mother.

Making note to remind my private life was just that, private- my eyelids fluttered at her words, and I made sure to let out a faint groan. I slowly brought a hand up to my forehead, and asked softly, "What happened? Why am I on the ground?"

"You fainted, Miss Jensen, and thank heavens you did not hit your head!" Mrs. Palmer explained in her overly enthusiastic manner.

"Perhaps you should go home, my dear," Sir John advised as he helped me to my feet.

"I would prefer it someone escorted you," Mr. Palmer added.

"I can escort her home," Elinor said, and we promptly left and went to my awaiting carriage. It was only after the Middleton's home was out of sight did Elinor murmur, "Thank you, Kiley."

I wrapped an arm about her shoulders and replied, "It was the least I could do- anything to get Lucy Steele to be quiet, and I will not demand for the reason that led me to feign fainting." Elinor leaned into me, and we remained silent for the rest of the carriage ride until we rode by Delaford- where an almost inaudible sigh fell from my lips.

"Perhaps you will see the colonel whilst in London," Elinor commented faintly.

"One can hope," I sighed, "I cannot believe I find myself so dependent on whether or not I see him."

Elinor smiled at me with latent understanding; her hand reached out and squeezed mine briefly. "I know the feeling," she murmured. I drew comfort from her own way of empathy- I had heard from Margaret, in great confidence, that Elinor was in love too...and tonight has cemented my belief that she was in love with a Mr. Edward Ferrars. It did not take a legendary or philosopher or scholar to know that whatever the crass Lucy Steele had informed Elinor had a relation to him.

The carriage pulled up to the front of my house, and after I exited, I informed the driver to take Elinor wherever she pleased. I made my way into the house, and up to my room in a daze; I peeled away my clothes and fell with the beginnings of anticipation blossoming in my chest at the hope of seeing the colonel in London.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: This chapter is dedicated to the guest, who identified themselves as Earl Grey- thank you for your wonderful review, and by flattering me immensely by saying I wrote similar to Austen. Whomever you are, you are surely a wonderful person and you have my thanks.**

I had been in London for a few weeks, and I had yet to see the colonel. I guided Ayden through the crowded streets of London when he suddenly said, "Aunt Kiley, there is a man staring at you across the street." He pointed in the direction of said man, and I all but lurched to a stop. There he was, at first I believed the colonel to be a figment of my desperate imagination, but here he was with a smile growing on his features as he approached. My hand fell limp in Ayden's and the other came up to wave to Colonel Brandon.

"Miss Jensen," he greeted me, slightly breathless, "It is so good to see you, I did not know you were in London."

"I am here visiting my eldest sister for a time," I replied, and blushed when the colonel reached out to take my hand to brush his lips across my knuckles.

"Shall I escort you and your nephew home, and then might I ask you to join for a walk?"

"That would be lovely, sir, thank you," I answered him, and smiled at him once more. I took his offered arm and with my nephew's hand securely in my other, we returned to my sister's house.

Ayden bound up the stairs and said over his shoulder, "I will tell my mum where you are and whom you are with."

Colonel Brandon wordlessly guided us to a park, and to my embarrassment- he caught me staring at him. "Miss Jensen, are you all right?"

"Yes, sir," I replied, a vibrant blush consuming my cheeks, "Allow me to be honest and say that you were sorely missed." I felt his hand squeeze my arm gently, and I peeked up at him from beneath my lashes. "Sir, why is it that you have been in London for such a long time, when you told me previously that you are not fond of town?" I inquired, neither accusing nor overly inquisitive in my tone.

A sigh fell from his lips, and he urged me to take a seat on a nearby vacant bench. "Miss Jensen, what I am about to inform you of, I do in utmost confidence," he began. He took a deep, cleansing breath, and then continued, "As you probably already know from Mrs. Jennings of my dealings of love when I was young; when I found Eliza dying in the poorhouse, I promised her that I would care for her natural daughter, whom is also named Eliza. I admit, I was too lax with her, and as a result, she ran away. I searched for months, and when I was prepared to accept the reality that I would never hear from her again, I received word from her- on the day of the picnic. The note was from Eliza telling me that she was with child, and the man, whom she had run off with, had abandoned her. The man was none other than-"

"Oh my sweet Ophelia," I gasped in mortification, "It is Willoughby, isn't it?" I finished behind the hand that had flown over my lips. "That poor girl, where is she now?" I asked intently.

"She and the child are currently in my home in London, but she will shortly be going to the country to complete the rest of her confinement."

"Oh, Colonel, do not be so harsh on her- allow her to stay with you at Delaford!' I argued, "Surely Eliza has realised her mistakes- do not make her be forced into solitude...especially with an infant to boot."

"Miss Jensen, your compassion knows no bounds. Perhaps, if you consent, you could become acquainted with Eliza, so that she will have a companion to call upon when she returns to Delaford once she and the child are strong enough to travel."

A blinding smile consumed my face, and I exclaimed softly, "Colonel, I would be delighted to meet your ward! Bless you, you tenderhearted man." I brushed a strand of flyaway hair that had fallen into my face in my excitement. "Would it be possible if I were to meet Eliza today?" I inquired hesitantly.

The colonel was silent for a moment, or more, until he finally replied, "Very well, if you would please follow me, Miss Jensen." He once more guided me through London until we reached what I surmised to be our destination. Colonel Brandon held the door open for me, and immediately upon crossing the threshold I was met with the shrill sound of a baby's cry.

"Christopher, I don't know what to do- she won't stop-" Eliza ceased her somewhat frantic approach when she realised the colonel was not alone. She looked at me with frightened eyes; she must have thought that I would be amongst the many that deemed her undesirable due to the fact that she had a child out of wedlock.

"May I?" I asked softly, coming up to her with a smile. She said nothing, only continued to stare at me with wide eyes, and frantically looked to the colonel. I slowly lifted the wailing infant out her arms and into mine. "Hello, little one," I cooed softly, and nestled the baby into me. "Sh, sh, everything is all right, there's nothing to fret yourself over, _a naoidhean bhig_," I murmured soothingly when the little girl began to cry once more. Her cries softened to whimpers, and soon they dissipated entirely; Eliza beheld me with barely contained awe.

"How did you do that?" she asked when her daughter promptly fell asleep in my arms.

"She can sense when you are upset, and that makes her all the more upset and fearful. Also, I have plenty of experience with newborns," I mused wryly and smiled down at the slumbering infant in my arms. I looked up and noticed the dark rings under Eliza's eyes, so I gently suggested, "Why don't you go up and rest, I can take of the baby for a time?"

"Thank you, Miss," Eliza sighed with evident relief, and vanished upstairs. I went into what I assumed was the drawing room and took a seat in the rocking chair tucked away in a corner. I smiled down at the little baby nestled into my bosom, and all the while, I could feel the colonel's eyes upon me.

I slowly rocked back and forth with my eyes fixed on the sleeping infant in my arms. "Hush now, little one, be still and dream of soaring over the highest cloud or swimming in the deepest sea," I whispered as I bent my head to kiss her brow when she fussed.

"You take to children well, Miss Jensen," Colonel Brandon finally said, his eyes still watching me.

"I admit that I am quite besotted with the lot of them," I mused faintly, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the colonel approaching the two of us. He came up behind me and brushed away my hair so that he could see the babe in my arms. "She's perfect, isn't she?"

"Indeed."

I slowly ran my hand through the short, albeit surprisingly thick, baby hair and smiled when the baby in my arms opened her eyes slowly. She blinked up at me owlishly and observed me with inquisitive brown eyes, and I instinctively drew the babe closer. The baby obviously was still tired, but all she did was stare up at me with her beautiful brown eyes. I softly cleared my throat and began to sing, "Lullaby, lullaby, my little one. Lullaby, my child so dear; thy precious life has just begun, and I hold thee near. Lullaby, lullaby, my little one. Lullaby, my child so dear." As I finished, her eyes fluttered shut; I carefully rose from the rocking chair and looked to the colonel. "Where is Eliza's room?" I whispered.

Colonel Brandon wrapped an arm about my waist, which caused me to blush, and then guided me to the first bedrooms upstairs on the right. I came up to Eliza's bed and gently placed her daughter in her arms, careful not wake either of them. Colonel Brandon and I left Eliza's room, and returned to the drawing room. "I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for Eliza and the child," he murmured.

I ran my hand through my hair, silently chiding myself that I could not manage an updo that would hold throughout the day. "It was my pleasure, I assure you," I relied. We looked at one another in silence, all the while- I could only once again wish that I possessed the beauty that Marianne had to have been the extremely blessed one to have captured the colonel's affection. "Sir, are you going to be in attendance at the ball this evening?"

"It is a possibility, depending on if Eliza will be all right with the child on her own."

"I do hope that you will be able to do so, your company will be most welcome," I replied with a blushing smile.

"Well then, I shall try to the utmost of my ability not to be a disappointment, Miss Jensen," he mused with a slight smile. "What are your plans for New Year's Eve?" he inquired.

"I am not certain, most likely whatever my mother and eldest sister have planned for my birthday-"

"-I did not know that you were born on New Year's Eve, Miss Jensen," he interjected, somehow remaining polite.

"Yes, Colonel, we will be celebrating my nineteenth birthday this Friday." I finished, explaining, "I hate to cut our time short, but my sister insisted before I left that should anything arise, I would return in time for supper."

"Well, then by all means allow me to escort you home," the colonel replied with a smile. Again, his arm wrapped around my waist in an intimate gesture of leading me to the door; as we did so, I tried to hide the blush that was growing in intensity.

"Thank you for the wonderful visit, Colonel, I feared I would not see you whilst in London," I finally managed to say; no longer able to bear the silence that was languidly suffocating me.

"Please, if you ever possess the desire, call upon either Eliza or myself," he said, and smiled down at me. Soon, far too soon, we arrived at the landing of my sister's home. "Farewell, Miss Jensen. I hope we will see each other soon," he breathed over the back of my hand as he placed a kiss on my knuckles.

"Good bye, Colonel Brandon," I said breathlessly in turn, and smiled brightly at him. I paused in my ascension of the stairs to watch him leave; after a few steps, he too paused and turned to look at me- at the realisation that I was caught; I waved demurely and smiled before I ducked into the house. I fell against the door gently as it closed, and let out a content, albeit plaintive sigh.

"Shall I write to Mama and have her inform Father to expect Colonel Brandon to be calling upon him to ask for his permission and blessing to court his youngest?" my sister's voice cut through my reverie, and she appeared with a pleased smirk on her face.

"Your assumptions are highly unlikely, M-Marci," I stammered in weak retort, and undid my hair from the style that was currently coming undone all the more than before. My heavy tendrils uncoiled and fanned out to the small of my back; I walked up to her and quietly asked, "Will you style my hair for the party this evening?"

"Of course, little sister, come along there is much to be done," Marci replied, and with an insistent tug on my hand, led me up the stairs.


	8. Chapter 8

I looked at the faces of the crowds, hoping to find a familiar face, and I finally found one. I weaved my way through the crowd, and called out happily, "Elinor!" I wrapped my arms around my dear friend, who swiftly followed suit. "How I have missed you," I whispered into her ear, voice thick with emotion.

"I have missed you too, and young Margaret is absolutely beside herself."

I leaned away to get a good look at her, and smiled when I saw her eyes shimmering with mirth. Over her shoulder, I saw Marianne, and that caused me to suddenly remember my cousin James Bennion had arrived and wished to meet the infamous, and certainly beautiful, Marianne Dashwood. "Elinor, get Marianne and meet me back here," I explained hastily, and politely hurried away to retrieve my cousin. I tugged James through the masses, my nerves alight with meddling tingles of anticipation. "Marianne, Elinor, may I present to you my dear cousin, Lord James Bennion." When James bowed in greeting, I did not fail to note the spark that ignited in Marianne's eyes.

"Ladies, it is a pleasure to meet such fine friends of Kiley's," Robert said to the two of them; however, his eyes were only on Marianne. "Miss Marianne, may I tempt you with suffering through a dance with me?" he asked with a warm smile curving his lips.

"Of course, Lord Bennion," Marianne answered softly, a becoming blush blooming on her cheeks.

Elinor and I watched James twirl Marianne away and onto the dance floor, and Elinor said to me, "Thank you, Miss Jensen, that is the first time I have seen Marianne smile in weeks."

"Do not give me your gratitude, it is James who is doing to work for me," I chortled softly and watched said couple dance. James was absolutely besotted with Marianne, and it appeared that his affection was not unrequited. "How long are you in London, Elinor?"

"A few weeks or so, I believe. Marianne and I are staying with Mrs. Jennings in her house here."

"Splendid! I would love it if you and Marianne would join me New Year's Eve to celebrate my birthday with me."

"We would be delighted, thank you," Elinor replied with a faint, warm smile.

"Willoughby!" I heard Marianne cry out over the noise of the party. I did not need to hear the loathsome words that undoubtedly fell from Mr. Willoughby's silver tongue- I knew enough from Marianne's crestfallen, mortified expression and demeanor. While Marianne and Willoughby briefly conversed, I saw Miss Sophia Grey smirk knowingly at Marianne as she looked up with a malicious gleam in her eye. Marianne rushed out of the ballroom, followed by gossip-mongering whispers, and James on her heels. Willoughby and Miss Grey retreated to a drawing room with the rest of his company, and I set off with a determined rigidity about me.

"Kiley, don't-"

"-Elinor, see to Marianne with James, I would like to have a few choice words with Mr. Willoughby," I hissed in interjection, my figurative hackles raised and on edge. I stalked into the drawing room, and when I found him- he was acting as his encounter with Marianne never happened.

"Ah, Miss Jensen, how lovely to see you, I-" the pompous-and pardon me- arse was cut off by my fist colliding into his jaw. He staggered and reeled backwards, crashing into the people behind him. After the gasps and soft shrieks of surprise, the drawing room was eerily silent as they took me in with disdain.

"Don't you dare, John Willoughby! I have had far enough of you and your philandering ways!" I spat, and glared up at him with as much venom as I could muster. The party around us had gone quiet, and I could feel the incredulous stares of further disapproval burning my skin, but I was far from finished. "Next time you decide you want to play with a young girl's heart- think again," I finished, stepping forward, and punched him in the nose. I smiled ruefully at the crack of bone, and the blood that spurted slightly from his nose. I gathered the skirts of my dress in my hands, flinching slightly at the intense, brief pain of my knuckles, and stormed out of the drawing room. "I am leaving, and I think I shall walk," I explained curtly to Marci and Jason as I donned on my winter cloak and gloves. I threw a scathing glare at Willoughby, and then looked to Marci. "I will see you when you and Jason return to the house," I mumbled, before I went into the crisp, frigid air. I ignored the waiting carriage, and went in the opposite direction of the Davenport house; the bitter cold nipped at my nose, and I drew the hood of my cloak closer to my face. A sigh of relief fell from my lips when the colonel's house came into view. I trudged up the front steps, and rapped the knocker against the door.

Eliza's face peeked out from between the crack in the now open door, and a smile broke out on her face. "Oh! Hello, Miss Jensen!" she exclaimed. Behind her, I saw Colonel Brandon approach and my heart fluttered in my chest. "Come in, come in," Eliza added and pulled me out of the cold, winter night.

"Why hello, Miss Jensen."

"Forgive me, Colonel, but- well, you see- I was at the party...hit Willoughby- twice! Then, well...I left," I stammered incoherently.

"You struck Willoughby?!" Eliza asked incredulously. Suddenly, she threw her arms around me and embraced me fiercely; hesitantly, I returned her embrace, and smiled sheepishly at Colonel Brandon.

"Miss Jensen, you have injured you hand," Colonel Brandon mused, and came closer, "Would you allow me to ascertain if it is broken?"

"Of course," I answered, breathless and blushing. Eliza smiled knowingly at me, and left us alone with the excuse of needing to check in on the baby.

Colonel Brandon took hold of my cold hand in his warm one, and frowned at the sight of my bruised knuckles. With gentle, probing fingers, he rolled my knuckles; when I winced audibly, he looked up from his task and murmured, "Forgive me, it is never my intention to cause you pain."

My heart ached at his words- especially, "Forgive me," it only reminded me of the picnic and when he left. The last portion of his statement made me forget for one short, blissful moment, that he was in love with another. For one brief moment, I reveled in my fantastical ignorance, and found myself falling further and further and further in love with him as I gazed into his eyes. "What is your verdict, Colonel, am I to be away from the archery and fencing arenas?" I asked in a teasing whisper.

"No, it is not that severe- although I strongly recommend refraining from striking anymore men...no matter how deserving they are," he replied smoothly, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes caused me to laugh. "Come this way, you need a compress to reduce the swelling." We walked into an empty kitchen, and Colonel Brandon motioned for me to take a seat at the small table. I watched him pump water out of the spicket-sink onto a handkerchief, carefully wring it out, and then came to take a seat in the chair opposite me. "Give me your hand," he murmured gently as he held out a hand to place mine in.

Slowly, I did as he requested, and a soft sigh escaped as the cold cloth was placed over my burning, aching knuckles. "Thank you, sir," I spoke gently.

"No, Miss Jensen, do not thank me. It is I who should be voicing my sincerest gratitude. You, out of loyalty to your friends, struck a man of high social standing surrounded by the most elite of society, and risked slandering your name-" he began.

I held up my uninjured hand to silence him and argued, with a blush forming on my cheeks, "I only did what I perceived to be right, Colonel, it was nothing extraordinary. Now please, stop trying to make me out as some heroine, one might think you have a hero complex."

"I like her." Colonel Brandon and I jerked at the sound of Eliza's voice coming from the doorway. Eliza walked into the kitchen with her daughter in her arms; Eliza sat in the chair closest to me, which gave me a perfect vantage point of the slumbering infant's angelic features.

"What is her name? I never heard either of you speak it," I inquired softly.

"She doesn't have one yet," Eliza replied faintly, her cheeks turning pink. She caught her bottom lip with her teeth and worried it pensively. "Would you...would you assist in naming her?" Eliza asked, so faintly I almost did not hear her.

"Oh no, I couldn't! She is your daughter, Eliza; you are the one to name her."

Eliza gazed down at her baby with evident confusion; I could only imagine the multitude of questions that were crashing through the young woman's mind; the biggest one being what name would she give her daughter to be known by the world, friends, and family by? Then suddenly, her entire demeanor changed and she looked up at Colonel Brandon and me with a beautiful smile. "Emily," she spoke, "Her name is Emily."

"A beautiful name, don't you agree, Colonel?" I looked to the colonel, and saw his eyes flickering between Emily and me. My eyes met his and I knew he could see the latent, intrigued confusion in my eye.

"It is late, Miss Jensen, I shall escort you home."

"Christopher?" Eliza asked, looking at him with a quirked brow that reminded me much of him.

"Very well, sir," I said, and went to get my cloak and then waited for the colonel. I could hear Eliza's raised voice, but could hear part of her tangent.

"...must you be so cold?! I know you...honestly, Christopher- you know how beautiful...surely you don't think a hundred suitors were not watching her tonight?!"

Colonel Brandon appeared and to my surprise, he looked quite scolded and extremely uneasy. "Eliza shoved these upon my person to lend to you; she said it was far too cold to be without proper cover...may I assist you as your hand is still tender by appearances?"

I nodded mutely and held out my hands; as he dragged the first glove up my arm, his fingers ran along the hypersensitive expanse of skin of the underside of my forearms. Goosebumps erupted along my arms, and my breath caught in my throat. My eyes peeked up at him, and were immediately ensnared by his entrancing, darkened hazel. We stood there, with his fingers still unknowingly teasing my skin, and I for one was incapable of being the one to break our visual contact.

Colonel Brandon cleared his throat nervously, and then almost hesitantly guided me back to Marci's home. The streets of London were bereft of their multitudes, and I enjoyed the silently falling snow that melted as soon as it touched ground. I slid my arm out of the colonel's and released the pins constraining my hair, which were digging painfully into my scalp and in great disarray. I ruffled my fingers through my hair and let out a content sigh; I saw the colonel giving me a queer look, and so I inquired softly, "Yes, sir?"

"Oh- I did not realise how long your hair was, and merely thought you should wear it down more often," he explained in a hurry, and as he spoke he refused to meet my eye- but I could still see the faint tinge of pink on his cheeks.

"Well, thank you, Colonel..." I trailed off nervously. We arrived at the landing of my sister's home, and I turned to face him. "Thank you for escorting me, Colonel, despite being highly unnecessary- it was highly appreciated."

"I would have to be an incredibly dense fool if I allowed a young woman such as you walk the streets of London at night unescorted," he argued modestly.

I rolled my eyes in feigned annoyance then asked, "Will you be attending the ball in honour of my birthday the day after tomorrow? It is my birthday after all- and please bring Eliza and Emily."

"Miss Jensen-" he began.

"-No," I promptly interjected, "I want you all to be there, or I will leave the ball and come collect you myself."

"Very well," he agreed. He bowed and then said, "Until then."


	9. Chapter 9

I could hear my guests' voices below me as I purposely delayed the last portion of my preparations; I stared at myself with great intrigue in the mirror while my mask lay on the face of my vanity. Marci had spent hours styling my hair, pinching my cheeks, and applying the dyes from pomegranate and raspberries to my lips. My hair was pinned in a disheveled, albeit elegant, bun on the bottom left side of my head; then placed next to it, was a beautiful, white peony. I looked at the ball gown my sister had purchased for me as one of her gifts, and wished that it was worn by a woman more becoming than me. However, the gown was my favourite colour- emerald green, and had a layer that started at my waist snugly before it draped and gathered down the length of my gown's skirts, which fanned gently about me. All along the edges and hems of the gown were meticulously sewn, silver peonies.

"Do not tell me you plan to waste the dress on only staring at your reflection the entire night? Come down and enjoy your birthday, Kiley, don't be so melancholy," Elinor chided as she entered my chambers. She carefully readjusted her own mask, and she took mine from the vanity. It was silver like the embroidery, and it too glowed like liquid moonlight when it caught in the light; with gentle movements, she placed the mask on my face and then tied it in place. She tugged on my hand, silently urging me to stand. "Kiley, are you all right?" she asked in concern.

"Yes, Elinor...just lost in my thoughts," I explained. I linked my arm through hers, and we went into the ballroom. Immediately, I was enraptured by the music and dancing couples; I saw Eliza sitting in the corner, so I excused myself from Elinor's company, and then went to Eliza. "I am so glad you could make it!" I greeted her warmly.

"Oh, Kiley! You look absolutely beautiful!" Eliza exclaimed, and embraced me as best she could with Emily asleep in one arm.

"Happy birthday, Miss Jensen."

I turned on my heel, and smiled brightly at the colonel with twinkling eyes. "Colonel Brandon," I murmured, my voice latent with admirable affection. He wordlessly handed me a long, thin box, and I slowly undid the latch and opened it. "Oh, sir, it's beautiful!" I gasped. Amongst the velvet lining was a thin, silver necklace molded into the shape of a serpent with emerald eyes. The serpent loosely held a glistening onyx stone that was attached to the end of its tail, and I was utterly taken with it. I ran a gentle finger along the necklace, and then looked up at Colonel Brandon. "Would you put it on me, sir?" I asked, turning so that my back faced him. HIs fingers ghosted against my neck as he brought the necklace about it; the serpent's head rested in the hollow between my collar bones, and the colonel secured the fastening at the back of my neck. I thought for one sweet moment, his fingers seemed reluctant to draw away, but my reverie was short lived by the music and conversations halting as my sister came into everyone's view.

"My dear friends, I would like to take this moment to thank you for joining me in celebrating my youngest sister's nineteenth birthday. Now, might my sister kindly step forward and come to me, please?"

I smiled at Eliza and the colonel before I made my way to the middle of the ballroom, and I did not fail to notice an odd twinkle in Eliza's eyes. I went to Marci's side, feeling slightly uneasy knowing so many eyes were fixed upon me.

"Now, who will be the one to share my sister's first dance of the night?"

A young man with roguish features stepped forward; however, his pursuit was stopped by a baritone voice calling out politely, "I would be honoured if Miss Jensen will have me." Colonel Brandon emerged from the crowd, and my heart beat frantically in my chest. I slowly walked up to him; meanwhile, my sister motioned for the music to resume. Colonel Brandon's strong hand held my waist gently, and the other enveloped one of mine. The music started, and he began to lead me along to the rhythm of the waltz; couples around us began to dance once more, but I only had eyes for him, my handsome colonel. I smiled up at him and for a moment believed that I would melt into a puddle when he gave me the utmost wonderful smile in return. He twirled me about with great care, and then drew me back to him as though it pained him for me to be distant. I moved closer, and I subtly inhaled his gentle, albeit heady, masculine scent.

"I am glad you chose to forgo a mask, I would have loathed having to seek you out," I spoke softly.

"I cannot find a mask that fits this wretched nose of mine."

"Stop it," I chided, "I happen to like your nose a great deal." When I finished, I blushed with realisation of my words that had just tumbled out.

"Miss Jensen, I regret telling you this, but I abhor your mask," he mused; at my confused look, he continued, "How else am I to see the blush that is without a doubt making your cheeks scintillate at this moment?"

At his words, my blush only grew in intensity and my heart fluttered lighter than a hummingbird's wing. Colonel Brandon twirled me around once more, and I noticed that Eliza and Marci were watching our every move. The dance came to a soft close, and I asked the colonel, "Would you like to step outside and enjoy the night air, Colonel?"

We made our way to the veranda and watched the snow languidly fall from the dark sky; I leaned forward so that my elbows rested on the railing. "Are you cold, Miss Jensen?" Colonel Brandon inquired.

"For once, Colonel, I do not think I will have to worry about the chill winter air," I laughed lightly as I finished. I glanced over my shoulder to look at him and saw that he was smiling at me, so I returned his with a smile of my own. He frowned at my smile, and so slightly confused and hurt, I asked, "What is it, Colonel?"

"Forgive me for my ambiguous expression and lack of an explanation, but I was frowning at that infernal mask that is currently hiding your smile, my friend."

I found myself unsurprisingly disappointed at the moniker he had bestowed, but I knew it was futile to even dream of him loving me. Nonetheless, I replied faintly, "If it vexes you so, I shall remove it."

My hands reached up to untie the mask's ribbons, but his hands wrapped around my wrists to stop me. I peered up at him with confusion; he released my hands, which fell limply to my sides, and his fingers ghosted over the edge of my mask. My breath caught in my chest, and as his fingers brushed against my suddenly hypersensitive, all I could manage was to gaze up him with a miniscule, slightly dazed smile. Just as Colonel Brandon began to peel away my mask, a cry from the open window above us caught my attention- the pulsating aura that was ensconcing us, gone.

"Elias… I must go and tell my sister," I murmured gently, and brushed past him. I found my sister conversing with her dear friend Katherine, and after I informed her of Elias' awakening, slipped back out to the veranda. To my great astonishment and disappointment, all that gave evidence of the colonel's presence was the solitary hothouse flower left for me on the railing. With a sad smile, I picked up the blossom and retreated to my chambers with the excuse of feeling ill.


	10. Chapter 10

The following morning, I had a letter waiting for me when I awoke. I quickly opened it and immediately recognised the colonel's elegant, albeit angular writing.

_**Miss Jensen, **_

_**Forgive my abrupt departure, but Eliza felt suddenly unwell and she apologises profusely. So, in a way of compensation, would you please join me at the park at ten o'clock for a walk? **_

_**Sincerely yours, **_

_**Christopher Brandon**_

Upon finishing the brief letter, a smile grew on my face, and my heart fluttered happily. I rose from my bed and glided to my wardrobe. I selected a simple champagne coloured dress that was surprisingly warm and a pair of sturdy black boots. I pinned my hair up into a simple bun, and then made my way downstairs. I found my brother-in-law, Jason, reading the newspaper alone at the table. "Jason, where are Marci and the boys?" I asked softly.

"Ayden seems to have overexerted himself, and is not well. I see that you received a letter this morning, who was it from, if you do not take offense to my prying?"

"It was from Colonel Brandon, he wishes for me to accompany him on a walk shortly," I answered, blushing faintly when Jason smiled knowingly at me.

"Wonderful, Colonel Brandon is an honourable man, I am happy for you. Perhaps he will be the one to temper that, pardon the play of words, temper of yours. It appears that your assault on Mr. Willoughby is the talk of London, and has even reached people back in Barton according to the gossip-mongers, but many support your unconventional actions- much to the our fellow aristocracy's surprise. Go, have a pleasant visit with him."

"Thank you, brother," I said, and quickly departed.

The thin layer of snow from last night had long ago melted, and the sky above me seemed to be bowing with heavy rain clouds. I hastened my gait, and silently hoped that the colonel and I would not be caught out in the rain. Few people were daring enough to venture into the park in this weather, so it was not difficult to find the colonel. He seemed to be pacing when I arrived; however, when he saw me he stopped abruptly and smiled. "Good morning, Miss Jensen," he greeted me cordially with a bow.

I curtsied in response and said, "Hello, Colonel Brandon, thank you for the invitation. How are Eliza and Emily faring?"

"They are well, and Eliza is looking forward to our return to Delaford."

Something was different about the colonel, and the way he mentioned his sojourn to Delaford made it seem as though he was departing in the very, very near future. "And when will you all be leaving?"

"Tomorrow," he replied faintly- refusing to meet my searching gaze.

My heart lurched its beating, and then plummeted down to my toes, my face blanched, and I struggle to breathe momentarily. Was I to lose him once more? It's too soon, too soon. "Tomorrow," I repeated, my voice below a whisper.

"Miss Jensen, are you well? You are quite pale!" he exclaimed softly, and reached out to take hold of one of my clammy hands. The simple contact kept me grounded, and my eyes jerked to meet his. "Miss Jensen?" he asked again.

Fortunately, I was not forced to lie to him, for the rain clouds above us were split open and a heavy downpour of rain fell upon us. Colonel Brandon pulled me to his side and he held his coat over the two of us as he led me back to Marci's home. Despite his best efforts, the rain had gotten to me thoroughly; my already heavy hair was sodden, causing it to fall from the pins' weak confinement and tumble down my back in dripping tendrils. We stopped once we reached the landing; at the sight of his dripping, disheveled appearance, I let out a faint laugh. "Do I amuse you?" he inquired.

"No, but your water-sodden appearance does- I am afraid that this hat has seen better days," I explained, flicking the bowing lip of his hat. "I could never find it within myself to mock you, Colonel."

Colonel Brandon's hand reached out, tucking a particularly cumbersome strand of hair behind my ear, and then left his hand on my face. My skin burned with pleasant, fiery butterflies and I smiled coyly up at him- my breath caught wonderfully in my fluttering chest. He gave me a warm, small smile of his own, and mused, "I scoff at whomever attempts to mock or think poor of you, Miss Jensen, you are a young woman of many virtues, and I am proud to have the pleasure of calling you friend." I did not know how to respond to such kind words, thus the reason why I remained silent, and smiled at him once more. To my great displeasure, he lowered his hand and bowed in farewell. "Until we meet again, Miss Jensen," he spoke softly.

"I wish you safe travel, and that we shall see one another soon," I replied wholeheartedly, and reached out to briefly grasp his hand with my own. "Give my regards to Margaret and Elinor when you return," I added faintly. I released his hand, and watched him make his way back; I smiled brightly when the colonel stopped to turn around and raise his hand in farewell. I returned his parting gesture with one of my own, and then entered the house.

Two weeks passed since the night before the colonel's departure when I received two letters- one from Elinor, and the other from Colonel Brandon. I opened Elinor's first, and what I read brought great joy to my heart.

_**Kiley, **_

_**First of all, I thank you for the wonderful gift you sent me for my birthday, although I have not yet had the opportunity to wear such a lovely dress. Also, you will not believe the joyous news! Marianne is to be married, to none other than your dear cousin, James! Mother is positively overjoyed, and Marianne is the happiest I have ever seen her. Thank you for all that you have done for my family and me; I do not know if I will ever be able to repay your kindness and friendship. I await your return, which I hope to be very soon in the near future...the colonel seems quite out of sorts and displaced without you here, so I am afraid that his company has been lacking. **_

_**Awaiting your swift return, **_

_**Elinor**_

I turned my attention to the colonel's letter, another smile blossoming on my face simply at the sight of the familiar scrawl.

_**Miss Jensen, **_

_**I hope that my letter reaches you in good health. Eliza and Emily are doing extremely well here at Delaford and I thank you for your sage advice. Mrs. Jennings seems to be possessed by some spirit upon hearing of Miss Marianne's upcoming marriage; she and Mrs. Dashwood have set the entire town aflutter. I have checked in on your beloved Perseus, as you requested, and I admit I am envious of the behemoth- it appears you care more for your horse's well being than my own. Now do not be cross with me, I assure you that I only say this in jest. Eliza wishes for me to inform you that she wishes for you to return as soon as possible...probably to inform you of the latest gossip...I as well, wish for your swift return. **_

_**Until we meet again, **_

_**Christopher Brandon**_


	11. Chapter 11

Two months later, I was finally on my sojourn home- home to my beloved colonel...who knew nothing of my arrival. A breathless, wistful sigh escaped my lips as we passed by Delaford in the carriage; there was no sign of the colonel or Eliza, and that was in perfect accordance with my rather mischievous plan. We arrived at the front of my home, where my parents were waiting on the front steps. "Welcome home, Kiley," my mother greeted me warmly and came up to embrace me.

"How were your travels?" my father inquired.

"Dreadfully long, I could not arrive home soon enough," I replied while gazing out at the grounds that were alight with the morning rays. "I am going to retire and take a small repos, excuse me," I explained softly, and made my way upstairs to my long bereft chambers. I smiled at the sight of my bed, turned down and waiting for me to nestle amid the sheets. I promptly fell into a gentle slumber, exhausted from the long carriage ride home from London.

It was in the early evening when I awoke from my respite, and upon realising the said time- I hurried to the stables with unsuppressed haste, and swiftly saddled Perseus. I swung a leg over the saddle, and with a cry, galloped out of the stables and towards Delaford. I leaned forward in anticipation, my fingers instinctively threading themselves in Perseus' mane, and the wind threatened to liberate my hair from its confinement. This was it- after nearly four months I would see Colonel Brandon once more. I admit, my plan was highly unconventional and exceedingly forward; however, all I could think of was seeing him again. My pulse increased at the sight of the home within my dreams, Delaford, and I urged Perseus on.

The front doors opened, and a figure raced towards me, seeming to mistake me for a messenger. When my features grew more focused within their sight, the figure- whom I now recognised as the colonel- lurched to a stop. "Miss...Miss Jensen?" he asked in an incredulous sputter.

I slowed Perseus to a canter, a trot, and then finally halted in front of the colonel. "Forgive me for my unexpected arrival, Colonel, but I could not write you and be forced to wait for a reply or any form of detainment," I explained, a blush blossoming on my cheeks. I dismounted and while I ran a nervous, tidying hand through my hand, I discovered that my pins had fallen out- lost somewhere in the meadows between Delaford and my home- and my hair fell down in wind- tangled heaps. "I beg to forgive my improper appearance as well, Colonel, it seems that I have lost my hair pins on the way here," I added in a hurry.

"It suits you...wild...never change."

I looked at him, confused at the fragmented reply, so I asked, "I beg your pardon?"

"Your mess of hair suits you; it is wild- as are you. I wish you never change who you are to appease others, Miss Jensen," he edified. I blushed and looked away, afraid to meet his eye and have him see into my innermost thoughts, which were currently centered upon him. "I do not desire to make you uncomfortable, Miss Jensen, forgive me," he said sincerely.

"There is nothing to forgive, sir."

A spark of determination ignited in his ensnaring hazel eyes, and he approached me with newfound confidence. "Miss Jensen, may I take you into my hot house to discuss a very serious matter with you?" he inquired.

"O- Of course," I stammered in reply, and took his offered arm. My mind was in a great disarray as to why Colonel Brandon seemed so collected, yet so out of sorts at the same time. We ducked into the hot house, and I smiled at the diverse, beautiful blossoms and orchids. "Is everything all right, sir? Is something with Eliza or Emily?" I asked, already sinking into a worried panic.

"No, everything is well concerning Eliza and the baby," he assured me, and stepped closer. "Miss Jensen, I have brought you here to discuss your thoughts or concerns on the difference of age between nineteen and eight-and-thirty."

I quirked a brow at him and inquired, "Are you addressing the difference in age because you believe it creates a dilemma for our friendship?" I bit my lower lip, and looked at him with worry.

He let out a brief chuckle, and smiled warmly at me. "No, in fact, your friendship is one I treasure greatly- above all others," he answered. Again, I wondered what was within his mind that made him speak and look so strongly at me. He was so tantalisingly close, and all that I wanted was for him to reach out and take me into his arms. Honestly, I was a lovesick fool around him and barely managed to retain the means to necessarily function properly; however, I could not imagine not having him in my life, whether he remained my friend or not. "Miss Jensen, you are an amazing young woman- and that is...I beg pardon," Colonel Brandon stammered, and let out a sigh of frustration.

My hand reached out to take hold of his, making him look me in the eye when our hands touched. I smiled at him and said, "It is just me, Colonel, there is no reason to be at such unease for my part."

His other hand came up to envelope my much smaller one, and he gave me my favourite crooked smile of his. "There is all the reason, Miss Jensen. What I have been failing to say is that I love you; I am a fool for taking so long to realise it. No really, I am forever a fool for not seeing it from the very beginning when we met that fateful day. When I first saw you, I knew you were beautiful, by far the most beautiful I had ever seen- beyond all compare- but I immediately pushed my affection away because one such as you were never made for the likes of a man like me. But now, after seeing every facet that composes your personage, I cannot restrain my affections any longer. I apologise for my curt manner the night you came to my house in London, nursing an injured hand, but as we sat in the kitchen...I was sorely tempted to be ungentlemanly and kiss you when I saw how you glowed whenever you were around me. So I have this to ask of you...Miss Jensen, would you please honour me by becoming my wife and equal through this life?"

The entire time he had been talking, I had inadvertently been holding in a breath, and as he finished, I swayed dangerously and had to clutch him tightly in order to remain on standing. My vision blurred with tears, and I gave him a tremulous smile; I blinked rapidly to clear my vision and could think upon what he had proclaimed. He thought I was beautiful beyond compare...and he wished to marry me. "Colonel Brandon-" I began.

"-Please, call me Christopher."

"Christopher," I began once more, "I cannot imagine a happier life than one being at your side for the remainder of our lives." A few tears slid down the contours of my face, but my darling Christopher caught them and wiped them away with a gentle, caressing thumb.

His arms came about my waist, drawing me close, and then rested his forehead against mine. "Forgive me for leaving London so abruptly, but I went to seek your father's permission- surely that compensates properly?" he murmured, causing me to laugh gently and lean into him. "May I kiss you, Kiley?" he whispered, saying my given name like a reverent prayer.

"You need not ever ask," I whispered in reply. I tilted my head back slightly, and did not have to wait long. Christopher's soft, thin lips chastely caressed mine, and I felt a blush flourish on my cheeks. I kissed him back; I had died every day waiting and wishing for him, but time had finally brought him to me. It seemed as though my love had lasted for a thousand years, and would last thousands more. Christopher smiled against my lips, and slowly drew away.

"I also admit to nearly kissing you on the veranda on the night of your birthday celebration, but your nephew snatched you away."

I smiled up at him and mused, "Well then it is a good thing that you will have me all to yourself." I cupped the side of his face, and craned up on the balls of my feet to kiss him softly. "I love you," I murmured as I pulled back. I blushed as he smiled down at me and added, "Forgive my forwardness."

Christopher laughed gently, and his hand reached out to softly caress my face. "I will never deny you, despite your supposed forward actions or words." His arms snaked about my waist, drew me closer, and then held me in his arms with a fierce tenderness. I let out a faint sigh and rested my head against his chest. "I can never deny you anything," he added. He ran his fingers through my hair with a beautiful reverence that caused my heart to flood with fluttering warmth. He rested his head against mine and I felt him nuzzle his nose against the crown of my head; I closed my eyes, a smile blossoming on my face as I did, and I finally felt that everything would be all right.


	12. Chapter 12

"Are you sure you are well enough to attend Robert and Marianne's wedding, my darling?" my mother asked in her normal worrying, mollycoddling fashion, "You look quite flushed, and has your headache eased any?"

"Mother, there is no chance I am missing the wedding," I argued mutely, and subtly wiped away the sheen of sweat from my brow. With latent hesitation, I rose to my feet and went out to wait for the carriage to arrive. To my surprise, I found Christopher coming up the front steps. "Christopher," I greeted him warmly, falling into his arms with ease.

"Hello, Kiley," he murmured gently in my ear, tightening his arms around me. I smiled into his chest, and I felt one of his hands play with some loose strands at the nape of my neck. "May I escort you to the nuptials today?" he asked chivalrously.

"As if I would consent to being escorted by anyone else," I answered with a smile.

"You are blushing," he commented softly and added, "How I love when you do so." He took the chance to steal a brief kiss, and then led me to the carriage that had just pulled up to the front of the house.

"I am looking forward to seeing Elinor again, I miss her terribly," I said softly.

"Ah yes, Miss Dashwood, I hope that she is in better spirits than when I saw her last."

"What do you mean? Is Elinor ill?" I asked frantically, my brow furrowed with worry.

"Calm yourself, Kiley, the only affliction she faces is one of the heart."

"Oh dear," I murmured, and suddenly my head pounded viciously- causing me to blanch and break out in a cold sweat.

"Are you ill, Kiley? You look quite pale," Christopher inquired, taking hold of my clammy hand in his warm one.

"I am quite well, Christopher, please do not worry about me," I assured him half heartedly.

"I always worry about you," he whispered, and brushed his lips against my hand within his grasp.

The carriage door opened, revealing my slightly frazzled mother. "Ah, there you two are, very well- Charles, drive on!" she exclaimed. As the carriage lurched into a bumpy gait, I fought back the overwhelming waves of nausea.

I stood beside Christopher outside the chapel waiting for Marianne and Robert to emerge; I fought to keep away any visible signs of the fatigue that plagued me, a cold sweat trickled down the length of my spine. I was sweltering under the spring sun, but it appeared that I was the only one affected. Christopher seemed to sense that something was wrong and he would keep glancing at me periodically. The doors to the chapel opened and revealed a beaming Marianne and Robert. Amidst the surge of well wishers, I swayed dangerously on my feet; my trembling hand rose to cup my forehead, and I let out a breathless, "Christopher-" I tumbled to the ground, already fallen into darkness by the time I hit the ground.

I was forced to remain in a state between fever-induced slumber and consciousness; many times I wished I could awaken and reassure the people, who faintly conversed at my bedside. The voices who spoke to me the most were Christopher and Elinor; I do not think Christopher ever left my side, and Elinor came in a very close second.

"Give me an occupation, or I shall run mad," my beloved Christopher murmured to the unknown, other occupant in the room, all the while having my hand securely ensconced with both of his.

"Fetch a physician, Colonel," the person, whom I now knew to be Elinor, instructed, "I will watch over her whilst you are away." Elinor did not speak for some time, and I thought she had left. Suddenly, her hand fiercely grasped mine, "Oh, my dear Kiley- please...wake up...I find myself at hysteria's feet in supplication at the thought of you gone- with Marianne in London- you are the only confidant I have left. Time and time again, you have performed great services to those you love- yet here you are, succumbed to whatever malady uses you..." The raw, intense quiver of her voice not only moved me, but greatly disturbed me. Of what severity was my being that caused my dear Elinor to lose her legendary sense? "Please, Kiley, do not leave me here alone." She kissed my scalding brow, and as she drew away she took hold of my hand. I fell asleep fully to the sound of her somewhat broken breath.

"I am afraid that she has an infirmity of the blood- as I recall this is not the first time she has fallen into such a state," my family's physician explained, pulling me out of unconsciousness, "She will awake soon- today or tomorrow, I imagine- since her fever broke. She will be extremely weak when she does, and do not worry if she should vomit for a day or so."

"Thank you, doctor, what can be done to prevent a recurrence?" my Christopher inquired.

"Remind her not to waste away from lack of proper meat intake- that was the cause of the previous bout," the physician replied.

Cool fingers stroked through my sweaty hair and I heard everyone except the person running fingers through my hair. "My dear, I never wish to see you in a state such as this," Christopher murmured, "If only you would wake."

My eyes fluttered and I willed them to open. "Chris...pher.,." I rasped, my eyes opened only slightly. I smiled when his head jerked up at the sound of my voice.

"Oh Kiley," he gently murmured and took me into his arms. "Thank heavens, you are finally awake. How are you faring?" he asked tenderly.

A wave of nausea came upon me as I whispered, "Like I-" I cut myself short, and leaned over the edge of the bed. My body briefly tensed like a coiled spring, and then I abruptly vomited on the floor of my chambers- I repeated the process thrice. I fell back against Christopher, whom at some point had come to rest behind me and kept my hair away from my face, and sighed wearily, "I am so sorry-" I began in a timid mumble, my face scarlet with mortification.

"-You have absolutely no reason to apologise," he interjected softly, and tightened his arms about me. I rested my head in the crook where his shoulder met his neck; I felt so much better than I expected, but as annoying as it sounds, I had my best friend comforting me. He played with my fingers, gently manipulating them to curve then straighten. I closed my eyes, and breathed deeply. "Why did you not confide in me that you were ill?" he asked faintly, the hurt latent in his voice.

"I did not want you to worry incessantly over me; you would not have slept well."

"You think I slept undisturbed these past days?" he inquired skeptically. He kissed my temple and then murmured, "Kiley, I want you to tell me when you feel unwell, do you understand?"

"Yes, Christopher, I am sorry-" I wrenched myself out of his embrace and once again vomited on the floor.

"I will go call a maid to clean this up, is there anything you require?"

"Is Elinor still here, or did you send her back to Barton Cottage?"

"She is in one of the guest chambers resting, but I will fetch her...and have someone clean up before she arrives," he explained, then promptly left.

Shortly after his departure a maid arrived and cleaned up the sick, and then I heard soft footsteps start from the end of the hall. With forced silence, my door burst open to reveal a slightly mussed Elinor. Her blue eyes instantly found my brown, and she wordlessly made her way to my side. She sat silently at the edge of my bed that was not soiled by remnant spittle, and seemed quite content to remain silent and stare at me.

"Elinor?" I inquired softly.

Elinor lunged forward and enveloped me in a firm embrace, and I felt her tremble slightly in my arms. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she chanted under her breath, although I did not know to whom she was speaking to. She pulled back slowly, her cheeks lightly tinged pink; she smiled warmly at me, and gave my hands a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you, Elinor," I said in soft warmth; at her quirked brow, I continued, "For never leaving my side- it was you and Christopher that encouraged me to get better."

"You would have done the same," she said, belying her kindness.

"Yes, but that does not make your efforts of any lesser value," I countered, "I thank the heavens whenever I think of how blessed my life has been to have a friend such as you/"

The door opened once more and revealed Christopher, who smiled at me and then bowed his head in greeting to Elinor. He sat on the edge of the bed that was unoccupied and took hold of my other hand. "You need to rest," he urged, "The more you rest the sooner we can go riding."

I gave him a half-hearted glare, which caused Elinor to laugh faintly behind a well-placed hand. "Stay with me?" I asked, already falling asleep. I felt his fingers thread through mine, causing me to smile- reveling in the simplicity of love.

"Always."


	13. Chapter 13

Two and a half months' time had me now standing before a mirror in my wedding dress. I fiddled with the hem of my three-quarter sleeves due to the ceaseless nerves whilst I desperately tried to breathe evenly.

"Kiley, calm yourself," Elinor chided, "Lest you faint walking down the aisle."

"I will be fine, just give me a moment," I requested, unable to tear my gaze away from my reflection. As Elinor followed my meaning and left me to be alone, I observed myself as a scientist examines a specimen sample. My dress was a thick, albeit surprisingly soft, white cloth with a thin lace overlay. The design on the lace was delicate, swirling flowers, leaves, and vines. About my waist was a wide, taupe ribbon; the sleeves tapered at my elbow and were almost translucent. The back of the dress dipped to just below my shoulder blades, and the gown was fastened to me with petite buttons that almost trailed down the entirety. Its skirts fanned subtly about me, and somehow made me feel almost weightless. My hair was partially held back with diamond pins that shone like morning dew, which were an early wedding present from Christopher; upon his insistence, I left most of my hair unbound, and Marci has somehow managed to transform it to tumble down my back in sweeping curls. I smoothed out invisible wrinkles on the skirts and then exhaled tremulously.

My body was alight with nerves and pulses of it would overwhelm me almost to the point where I thought my knees would give way. I had no qualms whether or not I loved Christopher- of that, I was certain...more than anything else. What worried me was whether or not I would be the wife he wanted...the wife he deserved. "I know that look; in fact, I wore it myself years ago. Do not trouble yourself with such insipid insecurities," Marci chided me as she came into the room.

"You felt like this?" I asked incredulously.

"Certainly, even the most confident and beautiful bride feels this way. Now for the task at hand, to help you with any qualms or questions about tonight."

"What of tonight?" I inquired in a slight panic, thinking I forgot some major detail of the reception to follow the wedding ceremony.

Marci pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, "Kiley, I am talking about your wedding night- your marital bed."

"Oh," I blushed fiercely, "What of it?" I asked hesitantly.

"I am here to help you by answering any questions and to give you a bit of useful information. First of all, I am going to be incredibly abrasive by telling you- it will hurt. For some, breaking your maidenhead isn't terribly painful, but that is not the case for all. The only useful, sage advice I can give you is not to shirk from your husband's touch or do anything that would otherwise deter his desires."

I was so red from my mortification, a passerby would have assumed that I was choking; as my sister prattled on about more appalling information that no doubt would have curled my hair if was not already so. I only wanted to curl into an indiscernible heap, and hide from the world until my sister ceased her counsel. "Thank you, Marci, for...informing me," I spoke haltingly.

"Do you have any questions or concerns?"

"What if...Christopher does not find me...desirable?" I asked, incredibly self- conscious.

To my surprise, my usually conservative sister embraced me with a fierce tenderness, and then kissed my brow. "Have no doubts, little sister, your beloved will find you most desirable. Now, take a few moments to collect yourself, and then Father will meet you downstairs."

I took a cleansing breath, and looked myself over once more; I now had a healthy blush upon my cheeks, and luckily the pomegranate juice's dye remained fresh and glistening on my lips. I breathed deeply one last time, and then departed to meet my father downstairs.

"You look beautiful, Kiley," my father spoke, "It warms my heart to have you wed to such a fine gentleman." He took my gently by the arm, and led me along the short walk to the church. "Are you well, Kiley, you are unusually silent?"

"Yes, Papa, just thinking of the new life that awaits me through those doors," I murmured, motioning to the chapel that lay before us.

He stopped us when we reached the closed front doors, and then turned to face me. "I am infinitely happy for you, Kiley, to see that you have found love and I wish you immeasurable joy with your soon to be husband, and in time- a family of your own," he said gently, and his eyes glistened lightly with the unmistakable shine of tears. He bent his head and kissed my brow, and then motioned for the doors to be opened.

All insecurities and qualms vanished for the most part at the sight of my beloved Christopher, who looked exceedingly handsome in his uniform, and I barely noticed my father guiding me down the aisle. This was it, in a matter of moments, I was to be Christopher's wife; a smile brighter than the sun curved my lips, and my eyes pooled with a few tears.

"I give my daughter to this man in the intention to be wed," my father said formally, kissing my brow one last time, and then placed my hands in Christopher's, "May you ever strive to love her as she does you and deserve her."

"Do you, Christopher Brandon, come here this day to marry this lady?" the friar inquired.

"I do," Christopher answered, his eyes never left mine- causing my heart to burn with love.

"Lady, do you come here this day to marry this colonel?"

I took a deep, cleansing breath and then smiled up at Christopher. "I do," I murmured with as much love that could be mustered.

"If either of you know of any impediment why you should be conjoined, I charge you on your souls to speak of it," the friar urged. "Have you any, Miss Jensen?"

"None, my good friar," I replied seamlessly.

"And you, Colonel?"

"None," he murmured.

"Then by the power invested in me by God, I pronounce you husband and wife," the friar proclaimed.

I smiled brightly up at Christopher as his arms wrapped about me; I leaned into him and my petite hands reached up to cup his face. He smiled down at me in return, and then lowered his head to capture my waiting lips in a kiss. Christopher's arms tightened around me when our lips met, and I easily fell into his embrace. A solitary tear of overwhelming joy stilled and glistened in the corner of my eye as they opened; as we drew back, Christopher gently wiped away the offending tear with his thumb- neither of us really acknowledging the applause and cheers that surrounded us. I took up a sliver of courage to kiss him swiftly on the lips.


	14. Chapter 14

"Shall we, Mrs. Brandon?" Christopher mused with a smile, offering me his arm.

"What a splendid idea, dear husband," I agreed warmly, sliding into his hold, and gathered up the skirts of my dress in my other hand. And then together, we left the chapel as husband and wife.

We were greeted by many familiar and smiling faces as we emerged from the church; Christopher smiled demurely, I however, had the brightest of smiles unabashedly adorning my face. Christopher lifted me into the carriage with sure hands about my waist, and then climbed inside himself. "Throw the coins! Throw the coins!" the children about us chanted. Christopher withdrew a black coin purse, reached inside, and then threw a handful of coins into the air. Another round of cheers erupted and that caused Christopher and me to smile at one another. Once all the coins were thrown and pocketed, Christopher motioned for the carriage to take us to the wedding feast awaiting us at Delaford.

Later in the evening, the food had been cleared away and replaced with a band of musicians, whom promptly began to play a light, romantic melody. Christopher rose from his chair beside me and asked, "May I have the honour of dancing with my wife?"

"You need never ask," I answered, and took his proffered hand.

He led me smoothly onto the vacant dance floor, and twirled me about before drawing me close once more. "Trust me," he whispered when he saw the latent apprehension in my eyes. He led me around gracefully, and I had eyes only for him. "I seem to be under some enchantment, or my eyes deceive me, for I must have in my arms one of the ethereal naiads of legends. You look beyond the meager parameters of beauty, my love," he murmured poetically.

I blushed and hid my face in his chest; I turned so that my head rested against his chest. "You look quite handsome in uniform, why is it I have never seen you in it before?" I asked faintly.

"Have I ever had the necessity?" he mused wryly.

"Must you be so- so...blast," I sighed.

"A statement, my wife, and a hesitation- two points for me," he chuckled softly. I heard and felt the rumble in his chest, and my reaction was goose bumps that erupted down my arms and the length of my spine. The song ended, and Christopher led me back to our table; as the song ended, I saw a man whom I did not know escorting an extremely pale Elinor out. "Excuse me, Christopher, I must see to something," I explained briskly. I gathered my dress in both hands, and stormed off towards the departing couple. When I managed to find them, I heard a most disturbing sound- Elinor sobbing uncontrollably. "Who are you, and what have you done to Elinor?!" I demanded hotly, putting myself between my distraught best friend and the shocked man.

"F-Forgive me, I had no i-intention of disrupting your celebration, but I had to see Miss D-Dashwood," the stranger replied timidly.

"That does not address my inquiry of who you are, nor does it enlighten me as to why Elinor is in such a state!" I growled.

"Kiley, what is the matter- ah, good evening Mr. Ferrars," Christopher appeared and said, "Darling, this is my friend Edward Ferrars."

"I do not care who he is, in all honesty, I want to know what he has said or done to Elinor!" I hissed, my figurative hackles rising to a dangerous height.

"Kiley, please do not be angry with Edward, he merely caught me unaware, but let me be abrupt with you- please do not scare away my fiancé away," Elinor cut into the conversation, and took Edward by the hand.

"F-Fiancé?" I stammered incredulously, and looked at the couple before me with wide eyes.

"Why don't you two go inside and enjoy the celebration...and Elinor, I give you the warmest of congratulations on your upcoming nuptials," Christopher said to Elinor and Edward, and then turned his attention to me. "Are you well, Kiley?" he inquired softly.

"Yes," I mumbled, wrapped my arms around him, and then sighed, "Marriage," I mused aloud with an amused exhalation of air, "Already an adventure."

Christopher chuckled and kissed the crown of my head gently. His scent enveloped me, and that made my mind develop a slight layer of fog to dim all logical thought. "Come along, Mrs. Brandon, we must return to our reception," he urged, and guided us back into the ballroom of our home.

Hours went by, and still Christopher and I only had eyes for each other. We danced a handful more times, but mostly spent our time tucked away at our table conversing and exchanging brief kisses. Then the dancing ceased altogether and the guests departed. All who remained were my family and the Dashwoods with the exception of Marianne.

"Good night, little sister, and once again congratulations," Marci whispered as she embraced me in farewell, "I will take Mother and Father home with me."

Immediately upon being released from my sister, I was swept into a bone-shattering embrace from my softly sobbing mother. "I wish the two of you infinite happiness, my little Kiley Sue," my mother murmured tremulously into the crook of my neck, "I will not detain you further- enjoy life with your husband to the fullest."

It seemed like I had blinked and my family, including the Dashwoods, vanished. Suddenly, the front door burst open, and Margaret came sprinting towards me. She latched herself onto me and said softly, "I'll miss you...and archery lessons..."

"Who says that has to change? You are just as welcome to visit here as often as you wish, I promise," I assured her gently, absentmindedly rocking her in a soothing motion.

"All right," Margaret grumbled. She drew away and saw Christopher standing a respective distance back; she narrowed her eyes on him critically."You swear to take care of her?" she asked expectantly, hands on her hips- a silent tell for Christopher not to offend her by laughing.

Christopher clicked his heels together, saluted her, and then replied, "You have my word and honour that I will, General."

Margaret nodded her head curtly, bid us farewell, and then departed.

"Make sure not to cross her, Christopher, I would loathe to see you cut to pieces," I teased, attempting to use humour to loosen my tense nerves, but it had little effect.

"Would it be pitiful that I find young Margaret more terrifying than your father? And I would loathe to put you in such a state of fear for my well being," he replied. He reached out and took me by the hand; for quite some time he stood there and stared at our intertwined hands, eyes fixed on the not so conspicuous scar that ran over my knuckles from that fateful Yule party in London.


	15. Chapter 15

"Shall we retire for the night?" I asked, voice breathless from nerves.

Christopher looked at me owlishly, and then gave me a tender smile. With a gentle tug, he led me up the flight of stairs and to a door on the right end of the hall. We walked into the chambers, and as soon as I crossed over the threshold- my nerves increased drastically. I turned him about to face me with a gentle murmur of his name, and then cupped the side of his face with my free hand. I bent his head down to meet mine and kissed him. With an almost awkward hesitancy, the kiss progressed into the type that Marianne would romanticize from her novels.

Suddenly, my cheeks were ablaze and I swiftly broke the kiss. An instinctive hand flew to my lips, and I beheld him with wide, apprehensive eyes. I was mortified at the sensual nature of my actions- my body had formed to fit his, and my breasts had been pressed firmly against his chest.

"Kiley, are you all right? Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you." I fell into his open arms and hid my face from him; I fiddled with the buttons on his uniform, and my hands trembled slightly when his came up to cease their erratic movements. "Tell me what is bothering you," he whispered.

"I am afraid..." I trailed off, and swallowed thickly before continuing, "That you will not find me desirable."

"Oh, my beloved, how wrong you are!" he exclaimed softly, "You are my goddess, more beautiful than any orchid- more precious than the rarest jewel. Please, never worry over my love for you." He tilted my head back, and captured my lips in a heady, blood-tingling kiss; his fingers threaded through my hair with a rough tenderness, and he smoothed away the overwhelming fear to only a gentle simmer.

I do not know how long we remained there; locked within a passionate embrace, but eventually we had to draw away from one another die to the need for air. Summoning the shreds of my courage, I led my husband to the bed, and then turned so my back was to him. I loosely gathered up my tendrils in my hands, and then murmured, "Help me?"

With each new portion of my skin revealed with the unclasping of another button, Christopher would leave a lingering kiss. Soon, all of the buttons had been undone, and the only things holding the dress to my body were my hands, whose arms were devoid of their sleeves. I slowly let the dress pool at my ankles, stepped out of the gown, and then turned to face my husband. Christopher had taken off his shirt, boots, and seemed to have been working on removing his trousers- but when he saw me he ceased all movement. I blushed brightly as his gaze mapped each and every surface- every contour- of my body. "So beautiful," he spoke in whispered awe. Once more, he took me by my hand, and guided me to our bed.

Late in the night, or early the following morning, Christopher and I remained awake amongst the tangled, sweaty bed covers. My hair was wild about me due to Christopher's avid attention to it, and our naked bodies remained intertwined. Christopher ran idle fingers along the sweeping curve of my waist, and my hands were tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck in turn. We exchanged brief kisses, and enjoyed the heady calm after the storm. I kissed where his neck met his shoulder and asked quietly, "Did I please you?" My reason for asking due to my sister's words before the wedding resurfacing at the forefront of my mind.

"My love, you are irresistible, please do not doubt yourself so," he assured me, and rolled over me so that he held himself over me, and then captured my lips in a passionate kiss.

_Epilogue..._

I placed a nervous hand over the hardly noticeable swell of my abdomen as I approached my husband, who was writing a letter to Edward Ferrars. "Christopher, I have news from the physician," I announced.

"Has he found a way to counteract your infirmity of the blood? I hate to see you in such a state as you have been for the weeks past."

"He has informed me that I...I am with child," I explained in a rush, a radiant smile curving my lips.

Christopher fell to his knees before me and placed gentle hands on my faint swell. "With- With child?" he repeated with incredulous joy. I nodded jerkily, which caused him to cry out, 'Oh, my beloved, joyous news you bring me!" He leapt to his feet and kissed me soundly on the lips. "We are to have a child!" he sang.

"Are you happy?"

"Of course, Kiley, you have given me every happiness I will ever need!" he assured me. He rested his forehead against mine and murmured, "I love you. I love you. I love you."

I smiled up at him with eyes bright with tears. "And I love you."

_Fin._


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